Her Forced Marriage and the Prince's Baby
by BlueMoon Goddess
Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he
1. Chapter 1

BlueMoon Goddess: Alright guys here is my new Vegeta x Bulma fic! However it's not the one I gave the summary for in 'The Airport,' this is a totally different one. I decided to put 'Together For all the Wrong Reasons' on hold for now, but don't worry, I'll start writing it and should have it started between October and November or next year (hopefully it won't be the later). Also, like in all my fics, there are a little things you need to know about the story.

For starters this is an AU fic, however I added the Saiyans to an extent, which will be explained in this chapter. But there are no powers and everyone is human.

I think that's it for now, anything else will be explained as I go, so sit back, relax and enjoy the first chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

The bass pounds in Bulma's head like a hangover as she squeezes between two flannel-wearing hipsters to pick up cash from the table. She scoops the damp dollar bills and counts them. Twenty-two plus a couple extra bills. Just shy of ten percent.

'Ten percent. That's pretty bad.' She thinks. She shuts her eyes, making a fist that crushes the money. 'Breathe.' She tells herself. 'Think of the beach. Clear blue water, white sand, hot under your feet.' She lifts a sodden rag from one of the red plastic buckets. The hot water burns her skin but she ignores it, squeezing then moves her arm like a windshield wiper, giving the table a quick wipe down before throwing the filthy rag back into the bucket.

The Raven's Den has a reputation for cheap drinks and affordable, greasy diner food, making it an attractive location for all the people taking the train into the city to party. Rustic tables in varying stages of shabbiness are scattered throughout the bar, but the beaten-down décor contrasts sharply with the wide strip of blue LED lights on the countertop, a relic from an overenthusiastic previous owner. A chalkboard above the bar lists the happy hour specials and the new beers on tap. A greasy film covers the tables, bar and she even feels it in her hair sometimes, as if there are literal fat particles drifting through the place. She watches the soap bubbles burst in the swirl of dirty water, feeling a black mass at the center of her chest. Thoughts of her recent ex-boyfriend drift in her head and then she imagines him getting wasted at a bar somewhere in Eastside of Spring Valley, Nevada. Probably sweet-talking some girl into going home with him at his brand-new, vastly superior apartment.

A golf sized lump in her throat refuses to go down. 'Bland, he said, you're too bland.'

Five years and his parting words to her might as well have been a one-star review on a restaurant with lackluster food. Funnily enough, Bulma can't muster the energy to care too much, but paying the rent on her own is going to be a bitch. That's what's causing the ball of the hurt in her throat, that he'd actually put her in this horrible position. Or maybe it's the fact that she's not sad she lost him. What was the point of spending five years with Yamcha? Love, she guessed.

Shouldn't she be chasing him down right now and begging him to come back? She bites her lip to keep herself from laughing. 'Yea right. It wasn't love, and I wasted my time with him.' The smile vanishes from her face. She's twenty-eight. Most of her friends are married with kids, or at the very least engaged and she's waiting tables at The Raven's Den on a Friday night.

Suddenly her desire for being around other people evaporates. She wanted to go home, bury herself in bed and watch 'Orange is the New Black' for hours while eating a slab of chocolate cake.

'Or you could get laid.'

Bulma licks her lips, thinking of the last time Yamcha and her had sex. God, she could use a hook-up. Someone who'll make her feel wanted. Someone who'll fuck her in positions besides missionary. Just a wild night of sweaty, dirty fun. But she's got too many bills and the fifty dollar increase in rent per month is going to kill her and her boyfriend just left. It's too much piled up at once and she could use a good hard fucking.

Then a splash of something cold freezes her arm and chest. Beer. She can smell it all over her clothes.

The man who bumped into her gives a theatrical gasp. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" He really did look sorry. But it didn't change the fact that she was going to have to spend the next four hours smelling like a drunk.

"I'll get you something to wipe it off."

Bulma looked down, her shoes covered in the frosty liquid. She just bought them too. Fuck. Her. Life!

He disappeared into the crowd, leaving before she can tell the bouncer. Her rage flames red-hot and she retreats into the private oasis in her mind. The waters in the ocean aren't calm and the sky is scorched red. She shoves toward the back of the bar, through the Employees Only door.

"Bulma, you okay?"

Her face must be twisted into something foul. She adjusts it and pulls her lips over her teeth in an attempt to smile. Launch, another waitress, winces in response. The pressure in her head doubles the moment she passed the door and then she shoulders into the dingy bathroom and takes one look at her reflection. Her skin burns like the tight, red skin of a tomato. Half of her tank top was soaked, so she grabs a fistful of paper towels and dab her heels but it's useless, the stain already soaked through.

She watches her shoulders curl forward and then she grasps the sink as a sob works through her chest. And she cries. It's like this every night. She comes home stinking of this place to her empty apartment that no longer had Yamcha's boxes. It's expressionless, like a blank canvas. Nothing on the walls. She never had the time or the money to decorate it. Yamcha said she was too bland, which is really another word for boring.

"You have five more minutes to feel sorry for yourself Bulma." She said to herself. "Then you get your ass back out there."

The pain sifts to the front of her brain and pounds. She wipes the tears away furiously. She's not crying over that bastard Yamcha, who couldn't even figure out how to work the laundry machine. Who, when prompted that it was his turn to clean the kitchen would respond that he would "only make things worse." He was a useless human being who didn't' even have the decency to tell her he was planning on moving out.

"Get over it. So you had some beer spilled on you, big _fucking deal_. There are people living through a lot worst. Yeah…a lot worse." Her eyes were red, but everyone will assume she's just high. She lifts her arms and pulls the tank top from her head, wringing the alcohol from the fabric before holding it up to her nose. "Damn it, it still reeks." She runs it over the faucet quickly and squeezes out the brown liquid. Then she pulls it over her body again. It's cold as hell and it makes her nipples hard. Whatever. It's too dark in there anyway. She tries to flatten her hair and make herself look presentable. She wipes a few strands from her eyes and then she leaves the bathroom and returns to the bar.

* * *

The almost broken knob of the door twists and almost falls in Vegeta's hand as he opens the door to a dive packed with flannel-wearing jackasses. It's a Friday night and the air is humming with the energy of dozens of bearded hipsters drinking their craft beer with equally filthy girlfriends. He scans the crowd of drunken people, his lip curling in disgust. The floor sticks to his feet as he makes a beeline for the bar, which has a ridiculous LED display under the glass. It makes him think about what he might've been like if it weren't for him being a Saiyan. Maybe he'd be here, partying with these assholes. A pint of beer in one hand and a girl in another.

He tries to imagine it, appreciate it, but he can't. It's a fucking dump. Luckily he's only there to collect. Fuck staying for a drink, the sloppy vibe of this place makes him feel like he'll catch a disease if he touches anything. He didn't know why his father sent him here, but if he had to guess, it was probably an attempt to humble him. His father wants the hot air out of his head, so he sends him on this assignment.

Good luck.

He had this city by the balls. Nothing talks louder than old money and power and Vegeta's got both. Men hand over their girlfriends when they find out that he's a Saiyan. Everywhere he goes, he had beautiful women begging him to suck his cock, begging, in the hopes that he'll pull some strings to help them get somewhere in their career or that he'll take them on as a mistress. All that pussy would go to a man's head. And why not take advantage of it while he can? He's a single guy, but he won't be for much longer. Eventually he'll have to get married. Wife, kids, it's been written in his future since he was born. He had to pass on the family legacy and name. He should have a wife and kids by now, but he's having too much fun getting his dick wet. Something told him though that his fun will end this year. He just broke up with Melinda, the longest fling he ever had by far and it's been a week and a half since he had gotten laid. He was getting restless. Somewhere out there is a woman with gorgeous and his name on her ass, but he tired of the hookups. He wanted something steady, not just a girl to fuck on weekends. There should be no reason why he can't have both. Where the hell are all the women in this bar anyway? He had to find a wife soon, but hell if he's going to find her in this dump.

Vegeta brushed past someone. The guy turns around, irritated, his mouth half-open in some rude retort that he swallows the moment he notices Vegeta's grey suit and blue shirt. He mutters to the girl next to him and they put their drinks down to leave the bar. Terrified eyes dart at him as he walks towards the bar and people part like the Red Sea. Raditz and Nappa stand at his side like boulders, the unnecessary muscle that his father thinks he needs.

More people streak out of the bar and the bartender watches them go frowning. His frown deepens as Vegeta approaches him. He tries to hide behind the dirty glass he keeps wiping with the same filthy dishrag. Seats at the bar are packed, but Vegeta just has to tap on the shoulder of one of the men sitting there. He looks around, sees three Saiyans and damn near bolts out of his seat. The bartender slams the glass he's been wiping for a full minute on the counter and pours another customer a drink. He's still distracted, trying to avoid Vegeta's gaze. He slams his fist on the counter and the glass tips to its side, spilling its contents all over the glowing counter.

"Goddamn it!"

"Good evening." Vegeta says to the bartender.

"What the hell did you do that for?" The bartender says, irritated.

"I wanted your attention."

Vegeta raised his fist and motion to his other comrades hovering behind him, then move close to the bar, staring down the stringy, thin bartender, who backs into his bottles of alcohol. They rattle against each other. Raditz and Nappa have that effect on people. He'd rather not beat the bartender down. For one thing, there's no pleasure in beating the shit out of a man who looks like he'd keel over with one solid smack and two…he's just not in the mood tonight.

"Where is our money?"

The bartender wraps his arms around himself. "I…uh…I don't' have it."

Vegeta stands up from his seat and the lying bastard flinches under his shadow. "Ram."

"I don't' have it!"

'Like hell you don't.' But he decides to humor him anyway. "And why is that?"

"The business hasn't been doing so well."

Vegeta looks around the packed bar. "Looks like it's doing all right to me."

"L—Look, I'm a man of my word. I'll have it here next week, I always have my payments on time."

Ram practically wet himself as he babbled on and on about how he's good for it, how the people moving into the area are a different clientele and he can't afford the rent. And damning those craft breweries springing up everywhere and the whining goes on and on until Vegeta feels like he's being sucked into a black vortex. He's a Saiyan and he has to spend his Friday night listening to this guy's problems instead of looking for a woman.

"…And people keep tagging my windows with spray paint. Cleaning it takes all day."

Vegeta's fist slams onto the bar counter for a second time and the frayed bartender jumps a mile. "I didn't come here to listen to you bitch. Don't make me beat you until your legs stop working. Just give me the fucking money and you can go back to selling overpriced piss."

Ram mumbles something, turning a bright shade of red. Vegeta's patience snaps. "What?"

"I said I don't have the money. Please…don't hurt me. I'm having a really bad month and my landlord increased the rent again…" His eyes glaze over as he rambles on and on, his voice rising in pitch to an almost comical degree.

'This isn't worth my fucking time. It's just seven thousand dollars. I piss on seven thousand dollars. We make that in an hour. This is fucking stupid.' Vegeta says in his thoughts.

He focuses on a spot over his left shoulder as a blue blur moves behind him. The blur slides into focus, a woman's face. It takes only a few seconds to assess her. She's gorgeous. Really gorgeous, with the way her blue hair accentuates her face, which is frozen in apprehension. Her blue eyes look right at him. They're expressive, even from the distance. Haunting, though they look slightly red as if she'd been crying. It startles him for a moment, this image of beauty and the not quite dry tears on her cheeks. Crying women don't exactly do it for him, but there's something about her that makes him want to pull her over his lap and make it all better. She turns away and goddamn she has the body to die for. His skin gets hot just looking at her. Is her shirt wet? Fuck, he has to meet this girl.

"I'll take her."

Ram breaks off in the middle of counting all the important bills he has for this month on his fingers to look at him. "Wait, what?"

"I'll take her as partial payment."

* * *

Was it Bulma or had the mood changed the moment she made it back out to the bar? It was a bit more subdued, the drunken, rowdy laughter had dimmed down to a low murmur but wasn't exactly a peaceful vibe. Sharp tones leaden with fear echo around her as heads turn toward the entrance of the bar where three men are standing. Her eyes hook on one of them.

'He's one of them, a Saiyan. But it couldn't be. What the hell would they want in this bar?' She thought.

But there was no question he was a Saiyan. He was wearing the blue shirt, grey suit and tie, the Saiyan crest on the side of his jacket pocket. And there was that air of maddening superiority from the way he walks up to the bar. The people seated there immediately stand up, apologizing. He and his other two associates sit down. His hooded eyes scan the bar and fill her with dread as they lock onto her. And he doesn't look away.

A long finger flicks toward himself as his stare penetrates her across the room.

'Oh shit.' Her legs hitch forward with difficulty as though frozen. Against every instinct she obeys. She knew that when they beckon, you come. That's just the way it was.

Bulma's gut swirls as she presses against the mass of bodies, carefully weaving through. This is the last place she'd expected to see one of them. It's a shithole of a dive in this area. He's dressed in a grey suit, the jacket hanging open to reveal his colors. He's completely at odds with the plaid-flannel-shit wearing fucks that frequent this place. Just looking at him, she could tell that he looks like he has enough power in his finger to flick someone across the room. He was obviously someone important with the Saiyans, which made it even less likely that she'd be able to refuse whatever he wanted.

Resentment boils like acid in her throat when she stops within a few feet of him. She didn't care how good-looking he was, she wasn't going to like whatever it was he had to say. She won't take in his thick black hair that stood up like a flame. He was probably the hottest man to step foot in this dump. Bulma's eyes rake over his appearance. Everything about him was the complete opposite of Yamcha. While Saiyan men were angular and rough, Yamcha was soft. Not in stature but in personality. She always had to initiate sex with him, but this guy is already fucking her with his eyes. They're full of that swaggering arrogance she'd come to expect from all the Saiyan bastards. And this guy looks at her as though he owns her.

"Can I help you sir?" Her voice rings out strongly, even though she can feel her heart trying to escape from her chest. Her heart pounds as he lifts his finger and beckons her once more and she can't tell if it's from the bass shaking her body or the smirk he's giving her.

'Oh God, what does this guy want? Probably nothing good judging from the smirk on his face. There's no question that it's a handsome face, but there's no way in hell I'm touching that.' Bulma squeezes herself closer, uncomfortably aware of the blush spreading across her cheeks as he watches her steadily.

He looks at her for a few seconds, his gaze surprisingly soft.

"Did you need something?"

A blast of hot air hits her ear as he leans forward. "I'm Vegeta."

It's almost enough to hear the deep baritone of his voice. Bulma turns her head, narrowly missing his lips and leans in to talk back into his ear. "Bulma."

"What's a woman like you doing in such a low-rent bar?"

"I was wondering the same about you."

"I'm here on business." And his deep voice pauses for a moment. "And a bit of pleasure."

There's no hint of innuendo in his eyes. Lust burns through them, scorching through the black tank top that Bulma wore to get bigger tips. In many ways it's no different from the stares of other men she's learned to exploit.

'This man is different.' She thought.' 'If I'm not careful, he'll eat me alive and spit out my bones.' She swallows down that desperate urge stemming from the mountain of unpaid bills. "I'm on the clock."

She's trapped in this intoxicating cloud wrapped around her. Then a firm hand closes over her wrist and it's as though fire spreads from the skin Vegeta touches all the way up her arm and cheeks. His other hand touches her back, pulling her into the circle of his arms.

"Now you're not."

"Says who?"

"Me."

She rolls her eyes as a line of desire runs down her spine, glowing hot somewhere between her legs. They don't make them like him in the city. His coal-black eyes shift, hot and cold as they trace over her face, lingering over her lips and neck.

Ram, makes air-chopping motions while mouthing something: _Get away from him._

 _Humor him, you'll get a big tip._

But he's not like the other jokes who empty their wallets and write their phone numbers on her bill. She's reminded by that when his hand touches the small of her back and when her thighs clench together when he breathes his name into her ear.

"Have a seat Bulma." His warm breath billows over her neck, breaking her train of thoughts. He stands up immediately, sweeping a broad hand to indicate that she should take his chair.

"Ignoring a worried look from Ram, Bulma sinks down into the vinyl seat. Vegeta moves to her left and leans on the countertop, flashing her a quick smirk before catching Ram's attention.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

She's never going to hear the end of this. "Sure. Gin and tonic."

Ram shoots a disapproving glare aimed in her direction and she returns the look with interest. What does he expect her to do? Tell him no? He's a freaking Saiyan.

"Whiskey sour."

Ram makes their drinks as Vegeta leans on the counter, facing her. Once again her eyes unabashedly slide up his torso to the broad, muscular chest straining against his shirt. The first couple buttons are loose, revealing a chest that just made her want to slather chocolate on it and lick it clean. A primal urge strikes her as she stares at him, knowing he's the promise of really good sex. Unlike Yamcha, he wouldn't wait for her to make a move, he'd just take her, just as he takes everything. She wants to use that tie like a leash and force his lips over hers. A thrill runs down her throat like a hot drop when one of his eyes closes in a sultry wink. Then he lifts his drink in the air. Bulma mimics as he delicately clinks his glass against hrs.

"Cheers."

"Cheers." She echoes him, tipping back her glass to let the alcohol burn through her lips. She lets it fill her skin with heat and she feels it blazing over her wet breasts like a warm hand. Vegeta watches her with the same eyes she sees all the time. He wants her, and she wants him. But the haze of desire mingles with a dose of healthy fear. He's not a normal man.

"You have a boyfriend?"

She laughs into her glass, already tipsy. "Not anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, he left me for some other floozy and now I have to pay the rent by myself." She swirls the contents of her glass as the liquid punches her head.

"How much is your rent?"

Bulma exhales a long sigh. The number is so depressing that she doesn't even like to repeat it in her thoughts. "More than two legal jobs worth."

"Maybe you should just move in with me."

Perfect deadpan. She sputters in her drink, wondering for one crazy moment if he's serious, but then his lips curve and she chokes out a laugh. He almost got her there.

"Maybe if I was a freeloader."

"I wouldn't see it that way." Vegeta says.

"Oh?"

"I think I'd see it as having my way with you whenever I want in exchange for taking care of you. Doesn't seem like a bad deal to me."

The drink almost slips from her hand. "Are all Saiyan men this forward?"

Vegeta touches her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her skin and then his hand curls over her shoulder. For a moment the touch paralyzes her and she feels heat in her face.

"Don't act like this doesn't turn you on."

It did. She'd be lying if she denied it.

"I take care of my woman, that's all it is."

The way he says _my woman_ brings a flush of heat to her nipples. What would it be like to be his woman? To wear the silks and attend the parties and free drinks and great food and paraded around on his arm like an expensive cufflink? She's seen the girls who hook up with Saiyan men and they either get married to them, or get tossed aside when their men get bored of them.

"I don't need to be taken care of." She's never been a gold digger. Bump that shit. She can make her own living, she didn't need any help.

"But it would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, but then it would end and I'm back to working my fingers to the bone."

"You think I go back on my promises?"

"No, I'd just rather not get mixed up with men like you."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Please. You know damn well what's wrong with you."

"You have no reason to be scared."

"Half the bar fled when you entered."

A shadow moves over his face like a passing cloud and then he shrugs. "I want to fuck you, not hurt you."

" _Wow_ , that's succinct."

"But true. And I know you want me to fuck you."

She thinks she's addicted to the callous sound erupting from his mouth when he says _fuck_. But she's not tolerating this shit. Bulma had men look at her like dogs drooling over a bone and tell her what they wanted from her. It's always been nasty and it made her feeling nothing but contempt for them. Vegeta was no dog. He could tell her that he wanted to eat her out and she would squirm in her seat as a hot blush took over her face. If anything, he's her bone.

He sits down, close enough so that his knee juts between her legs. Fuck, Ram's standing nearby, she knew he was. She needs this job really fucking badly. She can't get involved with an almost offensively hot Saiyan man, no matter how many lewd things he whispers in her ear.

She feels his eyes all over her skin and she's tempted to shiver. Christ, he's not going to let her go, is he? His fingers glide over her collarbone, rubbing the hard nub on her shoulder. They slip under the strap of her tank top, then they stop.

"That's why you're letting me run my hands all over you."

"I'm letting you do it because it feels good."

"Come home with me. You know you want to."

"I want candy, but that doesn't mean I should eat it."

"Too much candy is bad for you. There's no such thing as too much sex."

"One time with you would be too much."

"Ouch."

Vegeta was driving Bulma crazy with his hands, and she looks away from his face, which is way too close to hers. So her gaze falls on his lap. Great, now it looks like she's staring at his cock.

"The whole pretend I'm-not-creaming-for-him act is really cute."

"I'm not creaming for you."

"Really? You're staring at my cock."

Bulma's face burns and she meets his laughing gaze. "I'm not interested."

He takes her hand in his massive one. She looks at it dumbly as he rotates a braid thumb between her knuckles. God it felt good. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, lost in the feeling of her heart hammering in her chest and the pulsing ball between her legs.

"Life is short, take it from me."

She opens her eyes and gaze into his deep ones. What a perfect thing to say. Life is short. Take a chance. Fuck the Saiyan man.

"You don't waste time do you?"

"I like to seize every opportunity I get."

"Is that what I am? An opportunity to get your dick wet?"

His shadow over the counter grows as he leans in, her hand still strapped in his. He squeezes possessively and her abdominal muscles tighten as he whispers into her ear.

"You're whatever the fuck I want you to be."

Oh God, the growl reverberating from his voice seems to stroke her right between her legs. It's been a while, two weeks since Yamcha left her, and this man is hot as fuck. What better way to get over an ex than to get under this man in front of her? She knows he's a Saiyan, she knows this is a fantastically bad idea.

"Oh Bulma. If I want you, I'll just take you."

' _What did he just say_?' Bulma thought.

His charming smile hardens into a mask of brute force as he turns away from her to snap his fingers at Ram, who stops drying a glass to grab something under the counter.

"Pay the fuck up, or I'll take her."

Maybe Bulma was drunk, maybe she misheard him. "What?"

"I told you that I don't have the money."

"Then I guess I'll hold onto one of your waitress for a while."

She freezes as Vegeta's warm hand encircles her arm. He looks at her with a dazzling smile. "Don't worry, I'll return you in one piece."

Did he just say?—

Vegeta almost looks disappointed when Ram reaches somewhere under the bar and slides a thick, white envelope over the counter to Vegeta, who opens it and thumbs through its contents. Her jaw drops. There are hundreds of twenty-dollar bills flipping across his finger. Protection money? Finally, Vegeta nods at him and stuffs the envelope inside his jacket.

"Lying piece of shit. Don't make me come back here for this again."

"I'm sorry sir."

The moment he faces her, he's still all smiles again. The alcohol's heat swirls in her chest and she wants to taste the sheen of wetness on his lips. His warmth returns to the back of her neck as he splays as hand there.

"Damn…I was looking forward to dragging you in my place and ripping off that tank top. You look surprised."

He leans forward confidently as Bulma stands up and she freezes as his face looms in closer. Her blood churns, heart racing, and his lips touch her cheek in a chaste kiss.

That's it?

Disappointment hits her body like ice cold water. What was all that talk about her breasts for if he was just planning to walk out of here? His jacket swings forward, and somehow through her awkward position, her hand slips inside his jacket pocket and touches something dry and papery. She felt it with her fingers and then suddenly he's pulling back and she has it in her hands. It's his goddamn money clip.

Shit!

Instinctively, she curls her fingers around it as blood rushes to her face and then she swings her hand back as he steps back. The money disappears into her back pocket.

Bulma studies his smooth face as her heart hammers against her chest, nearly bursting out of her ribs. She just stole money from a Saiyan. What the hell was she going to do? It's too late to do anything about it. He's already standing back with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. A smile staggers over his face.

"I'll be in touch."

"See you."

She slides down because his form is still blocking her way out and she bumps into a man's shoulder. She watches Vegeta with a horrified slowness as confusion knits his bow. He lifts his hands and reaches into his jacket.

"Sorry." She whispers to the man's knee as she takes a step around him.

It's like an animal trying to burst from her chest. Blood pounds so hard that she has to grip the bar to steady herself. She should just keep walking like nothing's wrong, but she can't help it. She looks back. Vegeta has his hands deep inside his jacket. He's searching for it. It's gone. The coal eyes flick toward the bartender and then to her. The look he sends her is like a spear right through her heart. All he has to do it point. A scream rips from her throat the moment she sees the snarl on his face.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Yea I'm going to stop it right here. I actually had it longer but I thought this would leave you guys wanting more. But don't worry, the next chapter is the continuation of this chapter and I'll try and have it up soon. So until next time! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

BlueMoon Goddess: Here's the continuation from the last chapter! I'm so happy that you guys like the story! And I know some people still had some questions about from the last chapter, and at the end it will be explained. But for now, enjoy the rest of the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

The crowd of people parted for the Saiyan men as they lunged toward Bulma, as her back hit the back of the bar. People screamed as her arms were yanked behind her back and Vegeta's gaze burned at her as his hand wrapped around her throat. He reached around her back as she let out a shriek of pain. She then felt him groping her back muscles, him palming her ass, giving it a squeeze, then finding the money clips buried deep in her back pocket.

A silent horror rips through her as he shows her the money clips, holding her neck with his massive hand. Accusing, dark eyes burning at her.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I swear!"

The others holding her back laughed and even Vegeta gives a dark chuckle. "Whatever you say woman."

"I know how this looks. I know…dammit, stop laughing at me!"

"Take her to the back."

'No!' Bulma didn't know what that meant. But in every movie she's ever seen, you take someone out in the back to kill them. Her life slides past her like a boring PowerPoint presentation. All the long hours slaving in this shitty bar and that restaurant just to scrape a couple of pennies together only to live longer enough to do the same thing again the next day. Over and over, always living paycheck to paycheck. One obstacle after another. She thought she was living, but what was it all for?

"I didn't meant to, you have to let me explain!"

Their voices rise in a chorus of laughter. Even to her ears, her excuse sounded pathetic. The bar patrons only glance at her with pity, but it's the kind of pity that's also intermixed with "Well, she asked for it." And she can't really blame them for that.

The Saiyan men push her through the Employees Only door and a female voice lifts in a scream but she can't see anything. It's all too vivid for her to process. Bulma shoved through a second door, the locker room where they have staff meetings sometimes. There's nothing in there but a cheap plywood table and Kevin, sitting in one of the chairs. His milky-white face blanches even further at the sight of three Saiyans.

"Get the fuck out of here." Vegeta's growl acts as an explosion under Kevin's ass. The chair knocks to the floor as he sprints from the room, the door banging loudly behind him. So much for chivalry. He walks in front of her field of vision, looking handsome and pissed off. He glances at his colleagues. "Leave us."

"Yes sir."

The door closes softly behind them and Bulma looks at the four blank walls of this shitty office, convinced this is where she was going to die. Then a smirk crawls over his face. He grabs the tie at his throat and loosens it around his thick neck.

"Honestly, I wasn't trying to rob you."

"So you weren't _honestly_ trying to take my money?"

"It was a mistake!" She utters in a half-sob. "Haven't you ever made a mistake before?"

He nods sagely, taking a few steps be needs to flatten her against the wall. "My father used to make me kneel on salt for hours."

 _Shit_.

He brandishes the money clip and Bulma flinches at its appearance. His lips part as he trails the sharp edge of the bills against her cheek, then he turns the money clip and rubs the metallic edge over her mouth. She startles at the gentle touch.

"Is this wat you want?"

"No."

"You stole from me."

"I didn't—"

" _You stole from me_." He repeats again in a harder voice. "That means I own you." A smirk flashes across his face again. "How much is this anyway?"

She watches with increasing dread as he quickly thumbs through it.

"About five hundred. Do you think your pretty little mouth is worth that much?"

The metal stings her bottom lip as he presses down. "I―my mouth?"

"Yes." And then he took her shoulder in his rough hand and his hard body nearly swallowed hers. "I _could_ take you back to the organization, make an example out of you there."

Her mouth dries. All Bulma knew about that tall, black building with the Saiyan flag hanging on the front of it, was that it was the main base for them. It was like a giant hotel and that's were all of them resided. She also knew that outsiders were rarely allowed inside. And even if they did go in, some never came back out.

"No please." She pleaded.

"Then suck my cock."

'Suck his cock?' The absurdity of it rings in her head. Her being in this stupid room kneeling in front of this handsome bastard to suck his dick. And yet at the same time she's relived. He just wants a blowjob, that's _all_. Relief nearly makes her collapse to the ground, but she forces her shaking legs to stand still.

"What do you mean make an example?" She questioned.

"Maybe I'd take you in front of the council and let them decide your fate. Or maybe I'd just bend you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve."

Bulma didn't think her face could burn any hotter, but the image of her sprawled over his lap, her panties pulled down to her knees sent a jolt of pleasure through her body.

Vegeta caresses her lip, then trials the wad of money lightly over her skin and down her neck where her heartbeat throbs. "Then I'd take you to my place. I'd collect the rest of my payment there. Either way, I win."

"You're a bastard."

He smiles. "I told you I wanted to fuck you, not hurt you."

"Then don't!"

"But you stole from me. You've put me in a tricky situation, woman. There has to be some kind of punishment otherwise what would people think?"

"That you're a decent person who realizes that people make mistakes?"

"Decent? Does anything about me scream decent to you?"

'No, it didn't.'

"I can't hear your thoughts woman." He says in a singsong voice.

"No."

"And do you think I would've gotten to where I was if I was a nice guy?"

"Probably not?"

"The answer is no. There's no way in hell I'd be this rich or be standing in this room right now looking into your gorgeous eyes if I was _nice_."

Bulma's hand flies to her hair, her heart beating so fast that she can feel her body shake.

"And I can't have people thinking that I've gone soft, so I think you had better kneel."

"This is crazy!"

"I'm giving you an easy way out. Kneel and wrap those lips around me. Let's not pretend that your panties aren't wet at the very idea."

She was ashamed to admit that they were. He's a fucking bastard and he knows he's got her between a rock and a hard place, but what does it matter? Vegeta watches her with a half-cocked smile, waiting for her to do something that they both knew she wanted to do. "Take off your shirt first."

Something changed.

The air didn't feel tense, it was electric. His heat beat down on her like the sun. She'd forgotten how good it felt just to be looked at with desire. Under his gaze, she felt like she's in control. His eyes follow her hands as she grabs the hem of her soaking wet tank top. Bulma gives him a smile as she teases him with inches of her skin. He watches her roll it over her ribs and then her breasts. He let out a sigh, the cold air stinging her wet skin as she throws her tank top off her head, landing somewhere in the corner.

He touches her and she waits to feel revulsion or some kind of horror, but his hand glides over her skin like a lover's. He palms her breasts, warming them instantly and she touches his solid middle as pleasure thrums deep inside her like the sudden twang of a guitar string. Oh God, he feels good. He plays with her breasts, smiling in wry satisfaction at the peaked nipples.

"I knew you were hiding an amazing pair of tits." Vegeta moves a broad thumb over the sensitive skin, bending his head so that she can feel his breath over her naked skin.

Bulma let out a sound of disbelief and felt his lips brush her ear. "You don't think I like these?" He squeezes them and a rush of energy goes straight to her brain.

"No…I mean, yes. I just think you're exaggerating."

"I'm about a minute away from throwing you on that table and fucking you. Take off your pants."

When she caught her breath, she stands back from him slightly and bends over. His hand moves over her back as she slides her thumbs behind her jeans, pulling them off with her panties. She's already slick for him and she doesn't understand it. There should be fear pumping through her veins, not desire.

Vegeta's nostrils flare into little wings when she straightens herself and then she curls her hand around his loosened tie and tugs hard. It would take more than her weight to force him to do anything, but he bows his head close enough for her to feel his breath burning over her lips. Bulma closes the distance, fingers hooked through the neck-hole of his tie as he smirks against her mouth. She kisses him, bruising hard lips and he crushes her back as his hands wrap around her, gliding up and down her back. He squeezes her ass and she feels the rough calluses on her skin. Then his thigh digs into hers and she feels the iron rod of his cock digging into her groin. Her pussy clenches hard at the precise moment he slides his tongue in her mouth.

She couldn't believe she was actually mauling this guy. A Saiyan…a thug…gangster, whatever the hell you want to call him, he's a freaking stranger. She grabs one of his hands and laid it around her waist. She sucks in his bottom lip, biting down as she guides him to her clit. His finger slides along her pussy as he lets out a short growl into her mouth. He breaks away, his eyes livid.

"On your knees." He shoves her down and she grabs his legs to slow her descent. Then his hands work madly at his buckle.

She kneels on the rough carpet, naked in the garish yellow light. He looks down with barely restrained emotion and she realizes that she actually wants this man's dick in her mouth. Bulma touches him through the fabric of his slacks and hears him suck in a breath. She pulls the zipper down and yanks his pants over his broadly muscled legs. Charcoal grey briefs strain absurdly against the bulge of his cock, which is so big that his head pokes out of his leg hole.

He grabs her hair in a wordless grunt and then she frees his cock from his stiff underwear. Damn he's big. Thick veins pound blood into his length, which is way longer than the span of her hand. She makes a circle around him, but she can barely touch her fingers.

"Like what you see woman?"

Bulma looks up and strained eyes stare back at her. "It's fucking huge." She explores him, running her fingers over the sensitive fold of skin right under his head. A thin stream of precum slides down his head and she flicks her tongue across him.

Vegeta was losing his patience. He grinds his fingers into the back of her head and she leans forward, trying to open her mouth wide enough. Her tongue glides on the underside of him as he stretches her mouth wide enough to be painful. Bulma grabs the base of his cock and hold the cool sack of his balls as he pushes. She was close to gagging, but she forces herself to relax. She's not letting this guy leave unsatisfied. He'll have the best fucking blowjob from her so help her God.

His fist in her blue hair guides the pace but she picks it up and moves her lips up and down his length. Vegeta makes a loud groan and she glances up briefly to see his eyes fluttering. She pumps his cock, swirling her tongue around his head and then she moves her hands to his ass and she pushes.

"Goddamn it." He grunts.

Bulma feels him like a thick log in her throat, cutting off her air completely. She didn't let go until he was all the way inside. Her lips touch the base of his cock and then she gags. He pulls out, saliva stringing from her lips and she allows herself a few deep breaths.

"Will you help me?"

"Fuck yes."

She takes him back inside his mouth, ignoring the pain at the back of her throat. Her lips stop a half-inch from his groin. He bends his knees and thrusts his hip. She's choked with some guy's dick, on her knees, naked and he'll punish her if she didn't suck him off. It's the hottest moment of her life. He ruts her a few times, pulling out just enough for her to inhale a stream of air. Her lips kiss his body and she brushes her tongue against his balls.

Vegeta pulls out all the way, his hands no longer painful in her hair but still commanding. "I'm going to cum inside that pretty mouth of yours."

Her mind wants her to pull back and spare herself the humiliation of taking his come in her mouth. But there's nothing embarrassing about sucking this man's cock. She inhales deeply and then she takes his slick length inside her mouth again.

The room explodes with Vegeta's voice, his wordless grunts and the wet sounds of his cock. He deep throats her, fucking her mouth once, twice and then she feels the surge of liquid under her tongue. He gasps and then her mouth floods with salty warmth. Her lips tighten around him as he pumps in and out, releasing more hot jets of come that she lets slide to the back of her throat. Gentle fingers caress her hair as he lets out a satisfied groan. His legs tighten under her hands as he pulls out. It's still rock-hard when it passes from her lips, then he tugs her hair and its a few seconds before she realizes that he wants her to stand up.

Sound dials back up as Bulma follows the pressure of his hand. His raged breaths echo in the small room and she feels them like a finger, pulsing in and out of her pussy.

"I've never done that before." She said, heat flooding her face.

His hand rests on the back of her neck, playing with her hair. It's a pleasant feeling. "It didn't feel like your first time."

Now she was embarrassed. She wraps her arms around her chest and Vegeta notices with an exaggerated scowl. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You got what you wanted didn't you?"

The fingers rubbing the back of her head, making her forget that she's standing in the locker room of her workplace. It's almost as though they were lying in bed together. He won't even tear his eyes from hers, it's overwhelming.

"Not yet. It's your turn."

"My turn?" She blinks, completely lost.

His lips crash over hers, pushing her backward until she hits the edge of the table. Strong hands wrap around her body and bend her over it. His wicked face looms above hers, his tie dragging between her breasts she lays down over the table. She felt his cock against her leg and for a wild moment she's sure he's about to plunge his dick between her legs, but he reaches back with his hand. Her back arches when he touches her clit, the breath going out of her in one swift exhale. She can't believe how good it feels. His fingers play with her pussy, sliding up and down with an incredibly wet and erotic sound.

"Oh!"

"That's it…let me hear how badly you want me."

Bulma rewards him with another moan and he plunges his fingers inside her. Her muscles tighten over him as a ragged scream rips from her throat. It's so sudden, so _amazing_ , she didn't expect her heart to jump like this.

A series of knocks hits the door. "Vegeta!"

He shrugs off the sound with the air of a lion shaking off an irritating fly. "What Nappa?" He barks at the door.

"Everything ok?"

Vegeta's fingers jump inside her and she presses her hand against her mouth. He watches her with a smoldering grin. "We're fine, aren't we woman?" He says in a low purr. He sucks in his bottom lip, eyes roving over her breasts and abdomen with a deep-throated growl.

"Sir?"

"I'm not done with her yet." Vegeta calls back to the Nappa.

Bulma's cheeks burn as though there's a flamethrower right next to them. Vegeta buries his finger in her pussy, grinning at her shame. She can practically hear Nappa's thoughts as she hears his body move away from the door. Then again, he probably deals with things like this on a regular basis.

"Come back to me." He lowers himself, snaking a hand around the back of her head as he fucks her pussy.

The pleasure climbs like rungs on a ladder and then his mouth descends over hers, hot and urgent. Any of her coworkers could burst in there at any given moment and see her spread open for him. She closes her thighs, but he takes out his fingers and slaps her wetly.

"I'm not done."

She spreads her legs back open and Vegeta immediately dives back in.

"But they could come in―"

"So what? Let them see. Look at this body." He says in a reverent voice that made her want to grab the tie hanging from his neck and kiss him.

She feels his naked cock, still stiff against her leg as he curls his fingers inside her pussy, nailing her over and over again. His tie tickles her stomach before he lowers his mouth to one of her breasts, which he pulls inside his cavernous mouth to suck. Her moans split the air like a gunshot. His wicked tongue…fuck it was incredible. The wet muscle flicks across the sensitive skin and her core contracts violently. The hard edge of his cock burns in her mind.

"Fuck me."

He pulls back, his face alive with passionate energy. The word acts as a stimulus on his hands, one in her pussy and the other on her breast, and then she comes hard over his fingers, her hands flying over her mouth to stifle the noise, but Vegeta laughs, pulling them away. She stares at the bright lights in the ceiling until his head blocks the brightness. His weight bears down on her as her pussy clenches over and over. She had never come so hard, she's nearly crying with the sensation. He kisses her neck, right under her jaw and then finally her mouth, this time he's soft.

"I think I got my money's worth."

Bulma's head was still spinning when he swept an arm around her back and pulled her into a sitting position. He picks ups his clothes from the floor and pulls his slacks back on, digging into his pocket for the money clip.

Heat rises up her neck. "I'm not taking your damn money."

Vegeta gives her a startled look.

"Vegeta!" The pounding on the door resumes.

"Don't you need it?" He asks her.

She glares at him. Of course she _needs_ it. But she's not going to stoop so low to start prostituting for money. "I'm not one of your Saiyan sluts."

"We need to go! Cops!"

"I'll take care of them." He barks at the door before turning his gaze back on her. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

"Didn't you get what you want out of me?"

"Take a good look." Vegeta reaches down with one of his masterful hands and grabs his cock, which is still pushing a painful erection against his slacks.

A distant wail suddenly breaks the silence. Sirens…and he hasn't moved a muscle.

"VEGETA!"

Vegeta moves toward the door, turning his head to give Bulma a cool look. "I'm not done with you."

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: And that's the end of this chapter! Also like I said, I will explain the situation with the Saiyans.

The Saiyans in this fic are a group of powerful people. I guess you could say they are like the mafia since they are well known, very dangerous and they practically own certain places within the city and go after certain people (hence Vegeta having to go into the bar to collect the money). They have gotten away with a few crimes since they have the money and power to pay off police and to not serve any jail time for major crimes. And of course, Vegeta is a prince in a sense, since his dad is the very head of the Saiyans, and a few other people being in the top ranks as well. But of course not as high as King Vegeta and Vegeta.

I will be introducing other Saiyans from the anime in this fic as well and of course some OC's as well. I believe that's it, next chapter is where the things really kick into high gear and the plot starts up, so be on the lookout for it. Until next time guys! ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

BlueMoon Goddess: Sorry for the wait guys, but I'm back with the next chapter! The plot is going to get started in this chapter, so sit back and happy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Two months later, and Vegeta was still not done with Bulma. Two days after she had the best orgasm of her life, he had come to see her. She figured he was probably bluffing and he only said that to get a rise out of her. Boy was she wrong. That Friday night, he had showed up after her shift at the bar, took her to one of the fanciest hotels in the city and proceeded to finish what he had started two days ago. She had spent the entire weekend with him letting him do naughty things to her. She hadn't voiced her objection of this at first because let's face it, she hadn't gotten laid in what felt like ages and she was long overdue for one. Bulma didn't think he'd be so good, and certainly didn't think he'd give a shit about whether his partner got off. He would wait until she had gotten hers and then focused on himself. Though with the way he pleasured her, she had a feeling he really just liked knowing that he was able to bring her to that state.

Yet as time went on, he would come to the bar and whisk her away, which pissed Ram off. Sometimes he called her and announced that he was coming over. Every weekend he fucked her until she melted into the sheets, then she would spend the rest of the week fantasizing about their wild nights. She was content on whatever the hell they were doing, as long as she was with him one night a week, it was perfect. Though she did ask why he was with her and Vegeta had replied by saying she owed him for stealing from him, and so she didn't question it further. Though besides him fucking her so hard that she can barely breathe as her paying him back, he had taken her to restaurants, plays, and whatever stroked his fancy. Basically her entire payment have consisted of being with him, in and out of the bedroom.

Now it was all going to hell.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Bulma said, tapping her foot against her bathroom floor.

A few weeks ago, she had been throwing-up and got nauseous from certain smells. She didn't think nothing of it, since people were getting sick from a bug that was going around. Though when she checked her calendar and realized she skipped her period, she feared for the worst.

She went to a mini store and brought a pregnancy test. Taking the first one it said she was pregnant, though she figured it had to be wrong. Most of the time it could be wrong on the first try right? Now she was anxiously waiting for her other one to come through. She didn't want this one to turn up like the last five she did already.

Once the time was up for the results to show, Bulma reached for it on the bathroom counter. Her heart sank further as she saw the words 'pregnant' in bold letters.

"Dammit." She said, clutching the thin strip of plastic in her hand as sweat broke out over her skin. "What the hell am I going to tell him? How is he going to react?" She closed her eyes and opened them again, willing for the test results to change like an etch-a-sketch.

There's no way she can have this baby…she just can't. Two jobs and she can barely afford the rent, plus there's the fact that the father is a freaking Saiyan. Still, he had a right to know and when he does find out, she's sure he'll escort her to the closest abortion clinic and pay for the procedure, because she can't have this baby.

She got up from the edge of her bathtub, checked her appearance in the mirror again as her eyes burned, hoping that the gown she bought will be okay for whatever it was he had planned. He had called her a while ago and told her that he'd be over to pick her up in an hour. So she showered, put on her best lingerie and put on the white tube top dress she bought that came short in the front and long in the back. A tinge of guilt stabbed at her when she remembered the price tag, nearly four hundred dollars. Vegeta gave her the money, _insisted_ that she buy something nice for herself.

The doorbell rang seconds later, and her heart slammed into her chest. Vegeta stood in front of the door, looking like walking sin in his grey suit and white dress shirt with the first two buttons undone. He even smelled amazing. She picked up on his cologne when he bent and gave her a peck on the lips.

She could say it now. _'Vegeta, I'm pregnant.'_ But instead she asked. "Is this okay?"

He had told her to dress nice, but wouldn't tell her why, what, or even when, just that it was a surprise. Bulma was thinking that she should wait until after the surprise to drop the bomb. Why ruin whatever he had planned? The baby will still be there, growing inside her.

"You look perfect."

She didn't feel the warmth from his compliment like she usually does. Probably because there was a voice inside her chanting over and over again that she was pregnant. "Thank you." She finally says when his jaw tics.

Vegeta takes her arm and leads her into the circle of his arms, which lock around her as he nuzzles her neck and gives her skin a playful bite. Suddenly she had a thought.

'Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I had the baby. He's good to me, isn't he?' Though another voice was telling her. 'Sure, if you count the quality of the restaurants he takes you too. You're reaching.'

Bulma's chest tightens, trying to think of the life inside her as not a life at all, but some kind of parasite that'll surely ruin her life forever. She walks with Vegeta, his hand on her back, guiding her, to his car. He squeezes her hard, almost too hard. He seemed almost grim-faced when he opened the door to his car and for a freakish moment, she thinks he's guessed the truth.

"Is something going on?"

Then he breaks into a smirk and slaps her ass impatiently. "Get in."

She swings her legs into his Audi, careful to pull her dress inside before he shuts the door. She couldn't describe the atmosphere once Vegeta got into the driver's seat and started the car. It was almost tense.

"So where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to me place." He replied.

'He doesn't mean the Saiyan headquarters does he?' She thought. Within the Saiyan building, connected to the headquarters, there were apartments right next to it on both sides. The other two buildings were of course for the non-royal and counsel members of the Saiyans. "You're taking me to the Saiyan headquarters?"

"Yes."

Her hands twist in her lap. In the two months that they'd been dating, fucking, whatever she would call it, Vegeta had never brought her to the Saiyan headquarters. She told herself that there was probably a good reason why they always stayed at her place or some hotel. Maybe it was a rule of the Saiyans, or perhaps it was a self-imposed one to spare her anything that might come out of that horrible place.

"Why?"

"It's a surprise."

"I really don't like these kinds of surprises Vegeta."

"How do you know what kind of surprise it is?"

She turns toward him. "Something's got you all keyed up."

"Really?" He says, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe it's from looking at you in that dress."

"Now you're trying to distract me with sex."

Vegeta stops at a red light and gives Bulma a look. "It's not all about fucking you know."

"Right" She smiles at him and looks outside the window, the perfect image of calm as blood careens in her veins.

"Don't get me wrong. I love making you mine, but that's not the reason why I had to have you."

"Vegeta, I don't even know what you do for a living. Look, I'm not complaining. I'm not really sure I want to know, but I'm just having a hard time believing what you're saying. We've done nothing but have sex since we met. Again, I'm still not complaining."

"There's a reason for all of that." Then he chuckles to himself, almost like a private joke to himself. "You'll find out tonight."

"Fine, whatever."

Vegeta navigates through the snarl of traffic with ease as they made their way through West Sahara Ave. When Bulma saw the familiar tall, black building with the all too familiar Saiyan flag blowing in the wind, her skin went numb.

She always gave a look of amazement whenever she ever passed the tall building. News outlets never reported on the Saiyan organization, though they only published the charitable events they involved themselves in. Every once in a while there will be a burnt down building, a body or three found in the bottom of the river or in Desert Breeze Park. The police chef would then always make a statement about the senseless tragedy and make some kind of plea to the community to help "clean up the streets," but nothing ever got done. No one was willing to stand up to the Saiyans, especially when they ran the entire city.

They turned into the heavily guarded garage, which opened with Vegeta's thumbprint on a scanner outside. The black door rolls upward and he withdraws his arm to close the window. Facing them is a fairly unremarkable parking garage, although Bulma didn't know why she expected anything different. There weren't as many cars as she thought there would be, although she doubted many members needed one when they could just hail an uber or lyft anywhere, and probably not have to pay a dime.

Vegeta parked his car and Bulma opened the door, her heels clicking on the cement. They walked in a slow pace toward the service elevator, her heart beating abnormally fast. She was nervous, and not at all happy to be here. His arm curls around her waist the moment they were alone in the elevator and he kisses the side of her neck.

The ground lurches as the elevator rises from the parking garage to the lobby. Bulma got a view of the white marble rising around her and a giant red logo blazing against white. Three arrows pointing outward in different directions. It could almost resemble a crown. She never knew what the symbol meant to Saiyans, to her it reminded her of something of a trident.

Sprawled on the ground floor was something similar to airport security. Beefy guards in black suits with white dress shirts and the Saiyan crest on their breast pocket. They nodded their head towards Vegeta as both he and Bulma step out of the elevator. There didn't seem to be much activity in the lobby and their footsteps echoed over the high ceilings.

"Put your bag on the belt." Vegeta said to Bulma.

Bulma turned to him. "Are you serious?" She does it anyway as she passes through the metal detector, her head pounding with the strangeness of it. Another guard nods at the screen and she's handed back her purse. Vegeta's hands clasps her waist as he walks through without incident. Bulma takes the place in and sees that there is a hospital on the ground floor, or at least, the red letters say INFIRMARY. Four sets of elevators sit on the ground floor, and Vegeta takes her to one of them, his hand rubbing her waist in gentle circles.

"Okay, now you have to tell me what's going on?"

A smirk curves onto his lips. "Soon. Come on."

She hangs back as the elevator doors open, thinking of refusing to come until he explains whatever the heck he wants from her. He leans against the frame, his hand keeping the door from closing. He watches her with black smoldering eyes.

"Come."

And he looks so inviting that Bulma takes his hand.

The elevator sinks into the ground as his hand tightens around hers. She watched the floor disappear as they go down. The moment they vanish from the lobby, he pushes her gently against the cold wall of the elevator as his mouth descends over hers. The butterflies take flight as he squeezes her waist, and she leans into the kiss, overwhelmed by the rush flooding her veins. She was extremely aware of his body leaning against hers. She lowers her hand, touching the solid bump between his legs. He smirks against her lips and pulls away.

"Not yet."

"So where are we going?"

He eyes her with a maddening glimmer, paired with the most self-satisfied smirk she's ever seen. "I don't want to spoil the surprise."

Bulma lets out a swift breath. "You know I don't like this. Did you dress me up just to fuck me in something nice for a change?"

"Partly."

Vegeta bows his head, his mouth teasingly out of reach for a few seconds before they burn on Bulma's again. She was stunned by his lips, even though his kiss lacked the gunpowder it usually had. He'd never been this soft. He pulled back from her and then reached out and smacked the button to make the elevator grind to a stop.

"You're something else, do you know that woman?"

Something about the way he told Bulma that stole the air in the room. The air freezes in her chest.

"We're together every weekend."

"To fool around, yeah." She nodded in agreement.

"You think I take all my women to the places I've brought you? You think I really need that to get laid? I know it's only been a couple of months, but I have a really good feeling about you."

"I-I have a good feeling about you too."

'I'm pregnant.' It's not the best start to any relationship. It's probably the worst. She was afraid to tell him, and even more afraid of how he'll react. Bulma could just see the ugly look on his face. The best part of her week was going out with him, and yes, having him fuck her brains out three, four times a night. She didn't want it to end.

"I was thinking a couple of days ago."

"Really? Thought you had people to do that for you?" She said, a little smile adoring her face.

"I'm trying to tell you something important, smartass."

"All right, I'm sorry." She said in a softer voice, hints of all humor gone. "Continue."

"I was thinking…and knew what I had to do. It was as if this lightning bolt of clarity hit my head. I've never felt this before about anyone."

"I don't know anything about you."

"There's a reason for that, woman." He takes her chin in his hand. "However, I do know that you are it for me."

A sick feeling gripped her stomach. "You can't be serious?"

He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm dead serious."

"Vegeta, what the hell are you saying?"

"I want to know that you feel the same way."

"I—" Bulma wasn't normally so sensitive. At least not anymore. Sure she cried during scenes in romantic movies where the guy professed his love for the leading lady. But after her relationship with Yamcha, she pretty much stopped believing in happily ever after. However, Vegeta was in a class on all of his own and what he was saying now was truly having her think that maybe she can make it work with him. She's carrying his child, and a silver of hope darts in that _maybe,_ just _maybe_ she'll be able to keep it. "I don't know what you're asking me."

"Do you believe in fate?"

"Not really."

"Neither do I."

Bulma gave a confused look. "Then why ask me if you don't either?"

"I didn't believe in fate at first. However after meeting you, I realized that things happen for a reason. That some things are meant to be and are written for us. When I look at you woman, I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you too."

The smirk on his face darkens, turning into that feral mask that always made her panties wet. He smacks the button again, and the elevator continues to descend. "Now, was that so hard to admit?"

"Cocky bastard. Now will you tell me what all this is about?"

Vegeta finds her hands, squeezing them hard as his eyes blaze. "I'm making you mine. For good."

Suddenly, the car lurches to a stop and the doors swing wide open.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on." Still holding her hand, he leads her into a dark hallway with hollowed out holes for candles. They glow softly, illuminating the walls, giving it a surreal aura around the room. Men and some women lined the hallways, some smiling at Vegeta from recognition. It was almost as if they were waiting for them to arrive.

"Vegeta, what is this?" Bulma asks, suspiciously.

His hand tightens over her wrist. "Trust me woman."

The hallway lead to a doorway that looked as though it was carved out of jagged rock. There were rows of pews and they were all filled with people Bulma assumed were Saiyans. The only light came from the candles hidden in random alcoves, in the hollows of the wall. There was an altar, and an older man wearing spangled dark robes behind it.

What the hell was this? A chapel in the bowels of the Saiyan organization?

"Vegeta?" Bulma's voice bounced sharply on the rough ceiling, and she hung back, pulling against his grip.

He curls his hand over her wrist and yanks hard. She falls into his chest and looks into his smoldering onyx eyes that flickered in the candlelight.

"I'm making you my wife."

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Well I did say the plot was going to start. However, this isn't even close to the real story kicking off. Though it is a good start! And yes the chapter was a bit on the short side, but like I always say, I have to leave you guys wanting more. Plus I love leaving little cliffhangers for you guys! Next chapter will be the continuation of this chapter so be ready to see the end results, until next time guys! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

BlueMoon Goddess: I know most of you guys were shocked by the last chapter so get ready for the continuation from last time. Also expect a nice juicy lemon in this chapter as well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

The hallway explodes with Bulma's laughter. All of this…it had to be some kind of elaborate prank. Some weird way of asking her to be his girlfriend? Vegeta's lips curve into a little smirk, but she notices how it doesn't quite reach his eyes. She stumbles into the chapel as he pulls her along, still convinced that this was a joke. Her stomach curdles with horror as a crowd of men shift in front of the exit, blocking it. Oh shit…what the fuck was happening?

"Okay, what the hell is going on?"

Vegeta's voice grates like gravel. "We're getting married."

"Like hell we are! Is this your idea of a joke?" Bulma asks, looking around the chapel and scowling. "Because it's really not funny."

"Am I laughing?"

He wasn't.

"It's no joke. You're going to be mine woman."

"I'm not _marrying you_."

"You said you wanted to be with me."

"Yeah, I meant that on a level of let's visit each other's parents, not let's get fucking married! This is _not_ what I meant!"

He takes her shoulders suddenly, not hard enough to be painful, but enough to force her down to her knees as the priest approached them.

"Vegeta Ouiji, have you chosen your bride?"

"Yes I have." Vegeta replied back.

Bulma looked up at the priest, and tried to stand up, but Vegeta's hand forced her still. "Hey! What the hell is going on?"

"Rise." The priest says, beckoning with his hands.

Hands slip under her arms and haul her to her feet. She stares at the old man who seemed to look through her with his midnight colored eyes. She again tried to jerk herself out of Vegeta's grip, but he pulls her against his chest and laughs softly in her ear.

"It'll be over soon."

"Like hell it will be. How could you do this?"

His eyes shine. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Then let me go!"

"I can't do that."

"I'm not marrying you."

"Sorry to hear that, but you are."

"I. Am. Not."

"I gave you a chance in the elevator."

Her jaw drops as she stares at him. He was raving mad! She grounds her voice into gravel. "You asked if I wanted to be with you, not if I wanted to _marry_ you."

"Aren't they the same?"

"No, they definitely are not the same!"

The confidence doesn't burn out from his eyes. "We belong together."

What the hell was he talking about? "How can you think that?"

"I don't think. I know."

This was insane. Everything from the priest at the altar, and the people in the pews smiling at her as though they've seen this happen a thousand times. Hell maybe it has happened before and the women in this place were just too scared or completely blinded by the money and such from their spouses they didn't care. It was insane, and she hated that there was a _but_ that kept interrupting her thoughts.

"There's no way out."

"Help!" Bulma screams at the crowd of people watching her. "Please let me leave!"

Their shoulders shake as they snicker at her and suddenly the room is filled with the chorus of their laughter.

"Stop laughing at me!"

The laughter just seemed to grow louder within the walls of the chapel as she felt like screaming to the heavens above to find a way for her to leave this dreaded place.

"Are we ready to proceed?" The priest asks them.

"Yes."

"No way." Bulma and Vegeta say at the same time.

"You don't have a say in the manner." Vegeta turns to her. "We are getting married. Nothing is going to change that."

Nothing she said or did, no matter how much she begged, he was convinced that they were fated lovers or some crap, which made this even more ridiculous because of the secret she'd been carrying around all day. Vegeta forces her forward, grabbing her hand and holding her wrist in a grip she couldn't escape, not to hurt, but enough to know she couldn't escape.

"We are gathered here today to join the hands of these two people to be bound by the everlasting contract we call marriage." The priest began. He then turned to Vegeta. "Vegeta, repeat after me…I promise to guard this woman with my life. I will be her shield, her partner through light and shadow for eternity…"

He went on and on, reading the wedding vows as Vegeta held Bulma an arm's width apart and repeated the priests saying word for word. She knew that because she saw his lips moving. There were no sounds coming from them. A persistent roar wails in her ears, drowning out everything else. Then there's a box in his hand. A small black box that suddenly makes everything real. Vegeta opens it and there's a ring sitting in it. A rose gold ring with a princess-cut diamond in a halo design. It was simply beautiful. He takes her hand gently, sliding the ring on her finger. Then the priest hands her a simple gold band, and wondering what she's supposed to do but slide it on his finger.

'It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything.' She chants over and over again in her head. However when she looks at Vegeta's face, it was plain to see that it definitely did mean something.

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." The priest concludes.

Ear-splitting cheers erupt around them as Vegeta smiles in that predatory-I-knew-I'd-get-you way before he crushed his lips against Bulma's. She was numb with shock, but desire pricks across her skin like needles, and she can't ignore the fact that he's sweeping his hand across her bare skin on her shoulder. Next thing she knows, he's picking her up and carrying her out of the chapel with the cheers of the other Saiyans cheering along the way, until it was silent in the hallways.

He makes his way to a side room across from the chapel and kicks the door open. It's a bedroom, with a four-poster bed with a vanity and an armoire. He sets her down on her feet and then locks the door.

"What just happened?"

"We got married." He says. "I took you as my wife."

"No, you didn't."

"I said the vows and slipped the ring on your finger as you did me. It's done woman."

Done…just like that, they were husband and wife?

"I don't know what kind of priest was out there, but that was no wedding."

His smirk widens. "Tomorrow morning he is going to mail in the marriage certificate. It's done."

"I'm leaving. I've had enough."

She expected him to lunge at her, or hell, even slap her face and throw her back over the bed, but he does none of that. He shoves his hands into his pockets and leans over one of the beams on the four-poster bed.

"I know this is hard to take in―"

"Hard to take in? I was just tricked, no, more like _forced_ into marrying you. So hard doesn't' fucking cover it."

"It's not fucked up." He says in an even voice, his eyes hard.

"I'm just calling it like I see it." Bulma then holds up her hand in surrender. "You know what? I don't care. I'm done. We're done."

"You can't leave."

That smirk touches the sides of his face as she takes a few steps toward the door.

"You won't stop me."

"No, but the men outside will." Vegeta turns around and walks toward the bar cart, where there's a variety of glasses. He picks up a tumbler and seizes the lid on the ice bucket, dropping a few cubes inside.

As soon as Bulma opened the door, there were two bodyguards near the elevators. And if she wasn't mistaken she could've sworn she saw guns on their waists. "Are they carrying guns?"

"Of course." The small pop of unstopping a bottle of amber liquid echoes in the room as he pulls the stopper and pours. "And if you want to leave, you're going to have to go through those two armed men and possibly a bullet in your lovely side."

"I'm sorry…what did you say?" She must've heard wrong, because it sounded like he said the only way she was going to leave was possibly with a bullet in her. And if that was the case…

The glass raps the bar cart as he takes another one and prepares a second drink. The ice cubes ring as he tosses them inside the glass. Then he takes both and walks toward me until he's invading her space. She can't back away, because she was already pressed against the door.

"I don't know why I have to keep saying this: We are _married_ , and this is our wedding night. I expect us to consummate this marriage. You don't get to walk out that door until you give yourself to me."

Then he outstretches his arm, offering Bulma a drink. It was darker than his, and then she spotted the can of Pepsi he left on the cart. He remembered her drink of choice. Too bad she was pregnant. She could've really used a drink right now.

"Forget this." She steps around him, walking to the heavy walnut door.

"You are just wasting your time woman." Vegeta says in a bored voice. "As soon as you step outside of this room, armed guards will just escort you back into this room or shoot you."

Bulma grasps the handle, but her nerves fail her. They were just a few feet away from this door. Armed and ready to shoot her if the need called for it. Her fingers curve into the wooden moldings in the door when she hears Vegeta's footsteps heading in her direction. She looks down as his hands touch her hips. Her skin felt abnormally sensitive, and she gasps as his hand slides over her stomach. His body presses again her back, his belt buckle digging into her bottom. She shut her eyes against the feelings swirling where his hands sprawls on her stomach.

"Neither of us are leaving this room until it is done."

"You are such a bastard."

"I know." He says in a somber voice.

She whirls around and shoves his chest hard, but she might as well be shoving a brick wall for all the good it did. "If you know, then why did you do it?"

"I didn't want to hurt you. But I couldn't let it go any further without this. If that makes me a selfish bastard, so be it. I wanted you and I just couldn't give you up."

" _This_ is your solution? You want to be with someone, so you drag her to a wedding and then throw her over your shoulder like some kind of caveman?"

"Caveman?" He repeats in a throaty voice as he looks her up and down. "Yes, that about sums it up."

The slithering sound of his jacket falling off his shoulders hit her ears. Then he unbuttons his shirt, and she was distracted by his smooth, powerful pecs, how the fact that there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body, which almost seemed like it was sculpted for physical labor, fighting…or fucking.

"I don't want any part of this crazy world of yours."

That strikes a nerve in him. He rips off his shirt a little more harshly than he needs to, exposing a perfect stretch of abs. Damn it, his body was perfection.

"Let me ask you something…did I ever pretend to be a good man?"

"No."

"You knew who I was the minute you got involved. You could have checked out at any time."

Bulma turns around to face him. "Like I had a choice!"

He rolls his eyes. "Oh please. You answered your phone every time I called. You could've just ignored me, but you didn't. Face it woman, you want me just as much as I want you."

"That doesn't make us marriage material."

"I see something in you."

"More like you see a pair of tits and an ass." Next thing she knows, she feels hands moving on her back. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing to you?"

Bulma felt cold air from the room sting her back as he reaches behind her for her zipper and pulls down. She digs her fingers into his waist, trying to prevent him from pushing the dress of her body. "Please don't."

His face didn't even look sorry for what he was doing…for what he already done to her. And the dress she spent hours shopping for pools around her ankles, leaving her in nothing but her thong and shoes. More clothing drops to the floor like petals on a lake. Then Vegeta's naked chest presses against her own and a roar of desire stuns her like a bolt of lightning. All sense might've left the room, but her body still wanted him, still begged for the big cock flattened against her thigh.

"There's something between us Bulma. You know I'm right."

Her back hits the door, the wood digging into her skin as he grips her hip and thoughts of sex consume her brain. She weighs her options, which she believe there are three. The first relies on talking sense into him, but that's clearly not going to happen. The other involves her fighting her way through the thick wall of men and making a break for it, along with a bullet in her and hoping she makes it out without dying of blood loss. The last one…fuck him and get out of there. That was the best she had, out of the other two, so she was going with it.

It was surprisingly easy to shed her anger, like slipping out of a robe. The fear hadn't even made its way to her head yet. Vegeta had made it clear that they were not getting out of that room until they fucked, and God knows they've done plenty of that in the last couple months. They were already naked, and he kisses her neck, nipping her skin with small bites. Heat flares, shooting out in straight lines like little bolts of electricity.

"Are you…" Bulma swallows, forcing her voice out. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"Are you asking because you're afraid I will or you'll be disappointed if I don't?"

The dark smirk on his face tells her that she already knew. That he was toying with her. He was from the beginning, and he smirks because he thinks he's won her over. Bulma lets him think that. He pulls her close, until she feels the wild beating of his heart against her skin. Then he drags his fingers through her hair and kisses her, his tongue swirling in her mouth as he pushes her toward the bed.

She slides backward over the mattress, thinking of the baby as he grabs his cock and watches her splay on the bed. It bends as he kneels on the mattress and then his body falls over hers. She kisses him back as he crushes against her lips, nudging her legs apart, and she lets her legs wrap around his waist.

She'll fuck him one last time, and then she'll be gone for good. _Exactly how are you going to escape this place?_ She shoves the thought out of her head for now. Once crisis at a time.

There's the crinkling sound of aluminum, and she sits up to take the condom out of his hands. He raises an eyebrow.

"Fuck me."

Vegeta's eyes darken with desire. "Are you sure?"

It didn't matter anyhow. She was already pregnant. Might as well go out with the best sex she's ever had.

"Yes, I'm sure."

He shakes his head, smiling at her. "I wanted to wait a little before trying for a kid."

'He actually wants kids?' Her heart thumps loudly against her chest. "Who said we're trying for a kid? I'm on birth control." Her face burns at the lie, terrified that he'll be able to read through her panic and realize that she doesn't give a shit about the condom because she's already pregnant. "Just fuck me."

Suspicion glows in his eyes. "Whatever you think you're planning, it's not going to work."

Then he moves down and locks on her breast. His tongue hits her nipple like the flat of a blade on naked flesh. Cold…hot…so fucking _good_. She looks at his mouth working on her nipple, and lust slams into her like a semi. His greedy mouth moves to the other breast, biting on the hardening nub as he flicks his tongue across. She digs her hands into his hair, pressing his face close to her body when she should be strangling him. For a second she questions why she's going to leave someone who makes her feel so damn good.

Vegeta's tongue runs between her breasts as he pushes them together and bites down on the swell leaving a deep purple mark. A scorching path made by his mouth traveled down her abdomen, underneath the crest of her ribs, her stomach, and finally, her mound. Rough hands seized her legs, his fingers burning like brands into her skin as he pushed them apart to reveal her hot, eager pussy. His lips touched the ones between her legs and a shudder runs up her body.

"You always taste so damn good."

A wordless cry escapes form Bulma's mouth as liquid heat spreads over her clit, moving in deliberate circles. His mouth sucks the air as he takes breaks from eating her pussy, his tongue fucking her deep. Her legs tighten around his face as he digs with his mouth. Her nipples felt like they were on fire as lust spilt over her like a pungent cloud. She can smell sex in the air, his natural scent mingling with his sweat, and her arousal smearing across her thighs.

"Stop teasing me."

The warmth from his mouth withdraws from her as he turns his head and kisses her thigh. "I'm taking my time. Tonight is all about you."

"And I want your cock. Now."

"You'll get it, I promise."

Bulma expected him to use that thick cock that looked like it was about to burst and plunge into her, but he just gave her a smirk. He puckers his lips and blows over her pussy, the cold air stinging her wet lips and he soothes the burn with his mouth, fucking her in earnest. His tongue rolled back and his thumb pressed against her nub, rubbing it in aggressive circles. He dipped his thumb inside her and smeared his juice over her clit. Bulma was riding way too high, and then he pulled back his mouth and slid two fingers inside her, fucking her hard as his tongue rubbed her clit. Vegeta worked at her, pumping his fingers and twisting. Her breath hitches as the air fills with the sound of her wetness and his eyes were narrowed in concentration, as if his only purpose was to make her come.

"V-Vegeta. I'm about to―"

A savage twist of his fingers ignited a blaze that seared over her flesh. Her walls contract, squeezing his fingers and a weakened moan left her mouth. He kept fucking her, driving his fingers inside as if he was hell bent on making her come again. She was still riding the crest of ecstasy and the agony starts pulsing between her legs again. She wants him _again_.

Vegeta's body rises over Bulma's and she wraps her legs around him as he lowers his body over hers. She swipes the little bit of perspiration off his forehead as he catches her lips in a bruising kiss. At the same time, he sheathes his bare cock inside her. She breaks from his lips with a ragged moan as his cock pounds her. She tasted herself as he tongued her lips, her body moving down the bed with every rough thrust. He grabbed her arms and pulled her upright as she was still catching her breath. He then uttered a deep growl as he lifted her from the bed, cock still buried deep inside her.

"Vegeta, what are you―" She stumbled as he set her down, and then the richly decorated room swam as he turned her around to face the door.

"Put your hands on the door. I'm going to fuck you until it breaks down."

He threw her forward and she barely caught herself on the doors, which shook violently. She turned around as Vegeta positioned himself behind her. She watched as he snaked an arm around her waist as his legs touched hers, then he grabbed her pussy, pinching her clit. The pebbled head of his cock touched her moist center, it sliding down near his fingers and then back up again. Her elbows buckled even though he was barely nudging her with his weight.

"They'll hear us!" She yells, worried the guards near the elevator or hell, anyone near this room would hear.

"So what, let them. I want them to hear us. I want them to listen to you scream the way I know you scream when you come on my cock. Anyone outside this door will listen to every sound you make."

Bulma didn't know what to think about that, because his finger kept playing with her and she wanted him. She wanted his cock, his balls slapping her pussy, his hands greedily yanking back on her hips, and she even wanted this crazy exhibitionism. Then he pushes. She felt the void refilled with his thick cock. Her pussy swallowed his length, the walls stretching around his girth. She felt him slickly gliding in, his deep sigh when he anchored in and the tug when he pulled out. Vegeta fucks her…no, he's fucking ramming into her. Her elbows slam into the door and she feels the door shake back in response.

He laughs, increasing the tempo of his thrusts so that the door bangs repeatedly. Bulma's arms shake with the pounding of his hips, and she bites her lip to keep form screaming form the ecstasy riding her pussy and the insistent hand grinding her clit.

"Come on woman, don't do that with your lip. Let me hear how much you enjoy it." He thrusts hard, and a cry rips from her mouth when he jerks his hips, his fingers pinching her clit.

Everything was tighter with his hands clenched around her pussy. Then he leans over her back, grabbing her breasts as the door bangs in rhythm with his thrusts. Moans tear form her throat unbidden as Bulma loses herself in the insanity. He pinches her nipples one by one as his hand works hard to bring her close to the edge. His breaths deepen and Bulma felt the change in his rhythm. The strokes were swifter, more purposeful. Her own wave cresting as she felt it growing between her legs like a white ball of heat, and the ball kept inching closer to her core. Everything burnt, her lips, where she wanted him to kiss her, and her clit that kept humming and her pussy burnt where he kept assaulting her.

Bulma's arms collapsed as he fucked her hard enough to throw her against the door, her breasts flat against the cool wood. Then with his cock still thick inside her, he came. She felt the first jet of liquid when he bit her neck, crying out a startling sound, almost as if she was in pain, and then another quick jerk and the wave crashes over her at last. Pleasure flows from every pore in her body until she's laughing with the overwhelming sensation of her nerves firing in every direction. His hand moves from her pussy, which clenches hard around him.

Vegeta's arm wraps around her waist as though she were about to fall, and she guessed she was. Every ounce of energy Bulma had was spent withstanding his thrusts and now it was over. She just wanted to crawl into that big bed behind them and sleep for a million years. He turns her around, slipping out of her. He looked content, almost happy. He had that sleepy, deeply amused look on his face that made him look years younger. The heat hit her lips before the wetness of his mouth, and then he pushed her backwards. She falls on the high mattress and he rolls next to her, balancing his head on his elbow. She always liked this part with him. There was something to be said about male beauty, with the way he looked right now. Chest dotted with sweat, cheeks flushed, and eyes only for her. He wasn't one of those guys who fucked off the moment he got off. His hands roll over her curves the way they have a thousand times before.

"I can't believe we're married."

"Me either."

He bends over her, kissing her frozen face. "You'll understand why I did this when you get to know this place."

It's plain to her that she'll never understand all this, nor would she want their child growing up in this place. Oh God, the _baby_. A stab of anxiety hits her heart as that ugly reminder hits her right in the chest. It's not going anywhere, and neither is he. She couldn't seem to work up the nerve for an abortion, so it seemed like she was having this baby. And Bulma couldn't let it grow up in this place. This organization, was awful.

So what now?

Bulma tenses as Vegeta's arms curl around her, but he doesn't say anything more and second later he's dozing against her chest.

 _Now you run_. A voice says deep inside her head.

It seemed like it took ages for her to disentangle herself from Vegeta's grip and slide off the bed without waking him up. He laid curled up on his side, still the picture of female desire with his hands outstretched toward a lover who wasn't there. Bulma turns her back on him and walks on the carpeted floor toward the mahogany armoire. She opens the latch and it screeches slightly. Tentatively, she opens the doors to reveal a set of robes. One for both of them. She grabs the white robe and wraps it around her naked body, then she heads back toward the heavyset door.

'This will all be useless if they're still there.' She thought, referring to the guards near the elevator. She unlocks the door, wincing at the cricking sound as she looks at his sleeping body, then it groans open.

She peeks outside but sees nobody there, not a single soul was in the hallway. However, she couldn't go out there in the hall dressed in only a robe. Her dress was still there, pooled in the center of the room.

'Maybe with the dress and the ring on my finger, I'll be able to convince the guard that I'm only stepping out for some kind of errand.' She thought, hopefully. She slipped out of the robe and quickly puts the white dress on, leaving the robe behind.

She stills when she hears movement on the bed. Vegeta shifts on the bed, still asleep as Bulma looks back at him, fighting the guilty feeling wrestling in her chest. But she has no choice but to ignore that feeling and go ahead with her plan.

She'll never get to know him, and he'll never get to know the baby she was carrying.

* * *

Blue Moon Goddess: Yep well there you go guys! Vegeta and Bulma married, had a hot wedding night, and then Bulma high tails it out of there with Vegeta's kid. Talk about crazy huh? Next chapter is really where the plot begins so be on the lookout for that. Until next time guys! ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

BlueMoon Goddess: I know most of you guys were shocked by the last chapter. Heck I would be too if I was reading this. But in this chapter, it will start on what she was doing and you might get a few surprises in here as well. So get ready and happy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

 _Seven years later..._

It was a long way uphill and there was nothing in Bulma's apartment except for a loaf of bread, a box of Lucky Charms and a jar of blackberry jam. Her stomach gnawed with hunger pangs as she began to climb back to her one bedroom at the top. Her thighs screamed as she trudged up the steep climb, but she kept a brisk pace. It wasn't smart to go shopping so close to sundown, even if all the bags swinging at her side were filled with necessities for her and her seven year old child.

She turned around, paused for a moment to admire the view, the orange glow of the sun setting hanging around Sunrise Manor. The area shining bright orange, cheerfully allowing passage into the Promised Land. That's what it was back then, but now she saw it for what it was, an area of broken promises and shattered dreams. There was no surviving in that city. Not with two stable jobs and a baby. It chewed her up and spat her out into this ghetto.

She felt that distinctly hollow sense of loss as her eyes roved over the dilapidated sprawl of her new home. Realizing that it was getting dark and she should really get home, Bulma shook off the thought and kept walking, relishing the pain in her thighs. Every drop of sweat feels like a gift towards her son. It was hard work, but her son was her life.

She opened the garage door of her landlord's house to climb the stairs to the small in-law unit he had. Technically, he wasn't allowed to rent to her because it wasn't a legal in-law, so he bumped off a few hundred dollars off the price. It was a tiny place, only four hundred square feet with a kitchenette, but he allowed her to use the kitchen. She opened the door to her shoebox and see Jessie sitting in a computer chair, with Trunks sitting a feet away playing with some toy cars.

Hearing the door open, Trunks looked up and gave a bright smile once he saw Bulma. "Mom!"

"Hey Trunks, how's my boy?"

He grinned, his face round with happiness in seeing his mother. It made every ache and pain worth it for her, just to see the look of happiness on her sons face. She wraps her arms around him in a hug as he lists off the things he did during the day.

"Everything go okay?" Bulma asks Jessie, once Trunk went off to his room.

"Oh yeah, he was no trouble at all. Just hung around in his room and played outside for a bit."

Bulma nodded in understanding and dug in the pockets of her jeans for the sixty dollars she owed her. "Any plans for tonight?"

She shrugged her shoulders in a shy, teenager sort of way. "Yeah, my friends and I might see that movie Passengers."

"Sounds fun." Bulma said, putting her bags down on the dining room table.

Jessie's ponytail swung as she turned away from Bulma and head toward the door.

"Be careful out there. It's getting dark out." Bulma told her.

Her eyeliner seemed to crease into her skin as she smiled. "Don't worry. They're coming to pick me up. See you next week Ms. Bulma."

"Bye, and thanks again for looking after Trunks."

"No problem!" She steps outside, closing the door behind her, iPhone already in one hand.

Bulma leaned against the door and gave a sigh. "Another weekend alone." Her eyes burned as she stared around the empty apartment.

She made her way to Trunks, who was sitting on the couch watching some kids show she really wasn't sure he should be watching. Not that it was inappropriate, but that it would rot his brain for how stupid it was. She had better start monitoring what he watched. She looks at him, admiring the view of her precious little boy. His hair was much like hers except in a lighter shade and he had the same blue eyes as her. But the shape of his eyes, facial features and skin tone was all Vegeta's.

She had to admit, it was hell the past six years. Moving from place to place, knowing Vegeta was looking for her. Then three years ago hearing about the massacre at the Saiyan headquarters where nearly every member was wiped out. She still didn't know whether he escaped the violence. However, the media went crazy over the attempted hit on a journalist and then everything suddenly quieted down. There must have been a power struggle, from what she read online. But from that incident alone, it seemed more important than ever to keep her son away from the organization…away from Vegeta. Keeping the father of her child in the dark was the right decision, as was getting away from that horrible place.

Bulma flipped open the lid to her laptop and browsed through the internet, waiting for her infinitely slow connection to load the local news. She didn't have cable, but she did have an amazon fire stick, which all you needed was the internet and she and Trunks were able to catch up on any show they wanted. Plus, it was really cheap.

When Google finally loaded, she searched for Saiyan news, finding nothing but the usual propaganda. It was only until a few years ago that she discovered how much of a big deal Vegeta was in the organization, the son of the founder of the Saiyans. Hell it could be said that he was the prince of all the Saiyans. But she googled him from time to time, just to keep tabs on him, even though it caused a little wrench in her heart to see his handsome face light up her screen. She pulls images she saved from the web and calls Trunks from the sofa.

"Trunks, come look it's your dad."

Trunks rushes over to her and pulls the laptop screen closer to him. "These new pictures of him?" He asks her.

"No, sorry little guy. Couldn't find any."

"Well it's fine. It's still good to see his face, even though we can't see him." He said with a smile, then went back to the sofa to watch TV.

Even though Bulma had made it a point to keep Vegeta from not knowing about their son, Trunks had always knew about him. She made it a point that Trunks knew about him, showing him pictures of Vegeta starting from when he was two months old. Though she didn't tell all the details as to why they weren't with his dad and what he actually did for a living.

She typed in Vegeta's name, searching for any news about him.

 _Gang shootout leaves one dead._

 _Vegeta Ouiji, son of the deceased criminal mastermind Vegeta Ouiji Sr., was stabbed early Thursday morning on Magnolia Drive. Ambulances were called to the scene and he was pronounced dead on arrival._

Dead…he was _dead_.

The air felt thin, hard to breathe. Bulma clutched her chest, feeling the resolute thud of her heart. She didn't know why she cared, it wasn't like they were dating very long. And it wasn't like she spent the last six years dreaming of that last night they had fucked. He was the only man who ever made her feel. She still stayed up late, thinking of conversations they had, and in her darker moments, wondering what it had been like if she had just accepted it. Accepted the marriage and everything else that came with it.

Though deep down, she knew the Saiyan organization was ruthless. Him…everything. Deep down there was always this regret clawing at her whenever she looked at Trunks and saw Vegeta's likeness in him. That she should've told Vegeta about their son. He forced her to be his wife, but he never forced her, if that made sense.

She read the obituary, her heart hammering when it mentioned his name. "Vegeta Ouiji is survived by his wife, Bulma and his brother Tarble…" The text bleeds together as glassy tears ruin her vision. She wipes them across her face, refusing to whimper in case Trunks heard her. But Christ…he was stabbed to death? There was a service tomorrow. She could go. It might be her last chance to see his face before…and the horrible image of the casket closing over his frozen, handsome face steals the breath from her lungs. It'd be such a stupid risk, like walking into a den of snakes barefoot, but she had to pay her respects. He was the father of her child.

"Vegeta…" She says as she stares at the profile photo of him. "What the hell happened to you?"

* * *

It was raining in sheets and Bulma was hanging out on the sidewalk, near the edge of the cemetery where Vegeta was supposed to be buried. Black umbrellas float by in a procession as a group of mourners leave the cemetery through the front gate into cars pulled at the curb.

'Is that his family?' She thought, as she watched them pile into their cars and drive away, only until the last person was gone did she approach the gate.

Trunks was gripping her hand, head cast downward. It was hard for her to tell him that his father had died and it tore her heart apart when she watched him cry against her. Even though he never meet Vegeta, that was still his father and he had a right to mourn him. The person who was responsible to giving him life.

She holds the clear plastic umbrella, which looked out of place in the cemetery, and walked through the cemetery gate. Its rusty hinges squeak slightly, galvanized by the rain. Puddles grew around the tombstones as water rolled down the small hill. Her and Trunks walked on the gravel path, looking for the tombstone. They headed straight for the stone where she saw the rest of them huddled. Her heart hammered against her chest and then they finally reached the impressive headstone where Vegeta's name was etched.

 **VEGETA OUIJI. BORN 1985 DIED**

'What the hell?' Bulma thought. 'They left the year of death blank.' Confusion battled the grief in her chest as she touched the rock-solid stone. 'Maybe they'll fill it in later.'

It wasn't like she was in love with him, not by a long shot. But she never wanted it to end like this. He deserved a full, happy life, didn't he? And he died when he was thirty-nine. It was hard to imagine the man who made her his wife, who was determined to keep her, was buried under the freshly dug earth. A sob caught in her throat, the grief hitting her harder than she thought it would.

Trunks pulls her hand a little to get her attention. "Mom, don't cry. He's in a better place now. I don't think dad would want us to be sad." He said, trying to comfort her.

Bulma looked at him and pulled him in close for a hug and silently thanked God for giving her such a precious little boy. She didn't want to think of his father, dead and cold beneath their feet. There was nothing left for her here. She had seen his grave, now she can move on. It would take some time but she knew she'll make it. After all, she made it these past seven years didn't she?

"You're right Trunks." She told him, patting his hair.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel behind them and a voice booms, almost as if it came from the grave under their feet.

"You didn't dress up for my funeral? Shame on you woman."

Oh God…it couldn't be him.

But it was.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Of course you guys who that was. And yea, this was short, but hey, I told you guys before, I have to leave you in suspense. Next chapter will pick up from where this left off and we'll so stay tuned for it. Until next time guys, you'll be reading this again in the New Year! ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

BlueMoon Goddess: Back again with another chapter guys! I hope everyone is enjoying the New Year so far. This chapter has some major surprises and revelations, and even a hot juicy lemon. So sit back and happy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Bulma turned around, still holding onto Trunks, and Vegeta's deadly smirk vanishes. He was dressed in a grey suit, looking the same as he did six years ago, except for this eyes. They were colder, that is, until he saw Trunks standing at her side.

"Vegeta!" She exclaimed, surprised to him there.

Vegeta takes a step forward, every limb moving with purpose as he reaches his son. His mouth hung open as he looked down at Trunks. Trunks left Bulma's embrace and walked up to Vegeta with a look of curiosity in his blue eyes. He then broke into a big smile and ran into Vegeta's arms and hugged him tightly.

"Dad!" He said, happily.

Vegeta was in shock, not believing all of this was possible. Hell he didn't think that Bulma would come to his fake funeral, but she did. It wasn't hard to spot her from far away, not many women had her azure hair. So he had followed behind her on the graveled path, then he saw her face twist in pain when she walked to his tombstone and fingered his name. Whatever it was that made her run away, it wasn't him.

Seven years.

Seven long fucking years of celibacy. Of declining invitations from Saiyan woman and ones who knew his wife was MIA, and of milking his cock dry in the shower two, three times a day because he was starved of pussy. He took his vows seriously, but he wasn't prepared for how he'd want to rip down her jeans and fuck her right over his empty grave.

The hands gripping his legs made him snap out of his thoughts as he came to the realization that she had a child. Pride wrestled with something like despair as he put an arm around Trunks' shoulder, returning the embrace.

"I can't believe your alive Dad!" Trunks said, his hold on Vegeta getting tighter by the minute. "I was afraid I was never going to meet you."

Vegeta stared at him as he looked him over. He noticed that the boy looked to be about seven years old.

'She had a fucking child.' He thought, angrily. A child he had never seen before because he didn't know Trunks existed, looked at his face and called his Dad.

For a moment, his mind scrambled, trying to think of why that word would come out of the boy's mouth. It wouldn't unless his mother, _his wife_ , told the boy who Vegeta was. He leaned back, causing Trunks to release the hold on him, to get a good look at him. Vegeta noticed that his eyes and hair was all hers. But the slant of the boy's eyes, skin and facial features were all Vegeta's. He did the math quickly in his head, realizing that she was pregnant while they were 'dating,' meaning she kept it a secret. And while he searched for her, she was keeping his son away from him.

Bulma's eyes were full of unshed tears. "Vegeta―"

"How dare you." He said angrily. He searched for her all this time as she jumped from shitty apartment to even shittier apartment, desperate to find her because they were supposed to be together. He did it so he could get his wife back and start a family. As it turned out, they already had one. "How could you keep him a secret?"

She flinches against the accusation. "I wasn't going to raise my son in that environment."

"So you decided to raise him in Upper Spring Valley? Winchester? Tell me, where were you all these years when you were raising our kid?"

She looked down, her hair falling around her face. "Sunrise Manor."

"For the love of―"

Angry blue eyes meet onyx ones. "What was I supposed to do?"

Vegeta grabbed her shoulders. "You were supposed to bring him to me!"

"It wasn't mom's fault dad." Trunks said, trying to come to his mother's aid. "She said because of your job you were a busy and couldn't see us."

Vegeta looked down towards him. He had nearly forgotten Trunks was still here, too involved with talking with his wife and mother of said boy.

"Honey, do you mind stepping over there for a moment while I finish talking to your dad?" Bulma asked him.

"Yeah, sure mom." Trunks said, running over to a spot not far from his parents, looking at the other gravestones.

Once she was sure Trunks was in a safe enough distance, she returned her eyes back towards Vegeta. "If I had told you about him, it would've been a disaster Vegeta and you know it."

He knew she was talking about Frieza's ascent to power and the war he started in the organization. The bloodshed extended to families, wives, innocent children. Vegeta had watched as the sick bastard shot his father and brother in cold blood, along with his fellow Saiyan members as they fought and died in the chaos that ensued. The only reason why he was still alive was because Frieza wanted him to suffer knowing that every member of his family and fellow organization was wiped out. He was the only man to uphold his family name, except for Trunks. But Vegeta knew that his son wouldn't have been safe there, and he hated the fact Bulma was right. If his son was with him, Frieza probably would've killed him too, along with his wife.

"I still had a right to know that he existed." He said.

"I don't regret what I did. For all I know, keeping him from you is why he's still alive now."

"Clearly you did, or you wouldn't be here."

"I came here for closure." Her voice trembled with the lie and a smile spread across Vegeta's face.

"Bullshit."

"It's the truth! And I can't believe you faked your own death just to get me back. How sick are you?"

"I didn't fake my death woman. I paid off some journalists and bought a grave plot. Face it, you're just pissed because you fell for it."

The sky poured with rain, stinging his body cold. Bulma tried to shield herself, but icy drops pelt her head and she shivered. Vegeta picked up the umbrella from the ground and held it over her, then grabbed her upper arm in a vise grip.

"What are you doing?"

"We're getting out of this rain and then I'm taking you back home."

Her eyes widen in panic. "I'm not going anywhere near that place."

"You are, and this time I'm not giving you a chance." Vegeta then looked towards his son and realized he didn't even know his name yet. "What's the boy's name?"

"T-Trunks."

"Trunks." He mulls it over. "What a weird name for a boy. If I had a say in his name, he would've been named after me."

"Well thank God for miracles."

"Don't get smart woman." He then looks towards his son's direction. "Trunks! C'mon boy, we're leaving!"

Trunks looks up from playing in a small puddle and smiled once he heard his father calling his name as he ran over towards them. The smile on his son's face as he reached Vegeta reached across the gulf of pain he felt locked up in his chest.

* * *

Bulma's fear spread in the car like droplets of perfume and Vegeta let it fill his lungs. He watched her from the corner of his eyes, raking up and down her body as Trunks slept in the back seat, while he navigated through the city's traffic.

"What were you doing for money?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "The same thing I was doing before I got pregnant, busting my ass waiting tables."

Vegeta thought of all those douchebags he watched hit on her when he'd picked her up from work, and acid burned in his throat. He didn't want those assholes anywhere near his woman, but a part of him enjoyed watching her play those pathetic saps for tips. He owned her tits and her ass. If the worst they did was look, he didn't really care. Suspicion dug at him as he pulled into the Saiyan organization's parking garage. He was faithful to her, but was she faithful to him?

He let it roll off his shoulders when he parked the car and cut the engine. Bulma unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, but he reached the backseat first and took Trunks in his arms. Bulma's anxious blue eyes followed Vegeta's as he held Trunks against his chest. He was heavier than he thought, but Vegeta was no weakling and was able to hold his son in his arms.

"Where are you taking him?" She asked him.

"To the infirmary."

She followed him into the elevator, anger flashing in her eyes, knowing she couldn't wrestle the boy out of his arms. "For what? I just took him to the doctor for his checkup."

"Two things. One, the organization will want proof that the boy is mine―"

"Of course he's yours!"

"I know that, but they'll want proof before I can bring him in here."

She crossed her arms firmly against her chest.

"And two, I don't trust you."

"Are you seriously implying that I'm a horrible mother?"

"No, I'm just not leaving anything up to chance."

"I can't believe I'm hearing that from the man who wants to bring our son into a crime organization."

He ground his teeth together as the elevator dinged and the doors swung open. He wasn't willing to argue with her in front of the boy, but she would learn her goddamed place. As soon as the doors opened and he stepped inside, he felt the hostility thicken like a warm cloud. The bright marble floors echoed loudly with her steps as he walked across the lobby, he ignored the men starting at Trunks in his arms and he walked towards security. Luke balks when he notices Vegeta, but waves him in like usual.

Vegeta didn't bother waiting for Bulma. She wasn't going anywhere with her son in his arms and sure enough, she was right behind him.

"This is totally unnecessary."

The double doors of the infirmary swing inward as Vegeta smacks the button on the side. The medical floor swarming with activity. Nowadays there was always a gunshot wound or a stabbing to keep the place busy. It was still nothing compared to when his father was in charge, since there was never an empty bed.

Vegeta grabbed the elbow of a passing doctor, who stopped and looked at his hand but then looked up in fright when he saw who grabbed him.

"I need you to check over my son."

"D-does he have an appointment?"

"No, it's an emergency."

"What are his symptoms?"

"It's nothing like that. I just need a paternity test and a physical."

"I'm very sorry Mr. Ouiji, but you'll have to make an appointment and come back another day. We're totally booked."

Just hearing this guy talking was making Vegeta want to punch him. He was Vegeta Ouiji, the scourge of the Saiyan organization, the Prince of them all. Still there were some who didn't want to regard him as so just because his father was dead and he was never named as the new leader by the council. Even though technically by birthright, he was. He shifted Trunks from his arms and gives him back to Bulma, who immediately accepts him. Then he gets right into the doctor's face.

"Let me make something clear to you. I am Vegeta Ouiji, the leader of the Saiyans, who also happens to pay your fucking bills."

"Sir if you don't stop now I'll―"

"You'll do what, call the cops?" Vegeta's laugh echoes around the room.

The doctor's Adam's apple bulges as he glances at Bulma as though for help, but she narrows her eyes at him. It couldn't be plainer that she didn't give a shit.

"Examine my son right now, or you'll have two broken kneecaps for a problem."

"All right, all right, I'll do it." Flustered, he turns around, talking to a nearby nurse. "Get us a room."

The doctor takes Trunks, who had already woken up from the commotion, from Bulma and listens to his heartbeat with the stethoscope wrapped around his neck, and then he takes more vitals. Vegeta sunk into one of the plastic chairs as Bulma answered the doctor's questions.

"Trunks is right on track height and weight wise for his age. Everything looks excellent. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

Bulma threw Vegeta an I-told-you-so look that he ignored. The doctor retrieved a cotton swab from one of the drawers and glanced at him. "You said you wanted a paternity test."

"Yes."

"A paternity test takes at least twelve hours for the results to come back from the lab. It's not something that happens quickly."

"Fine, just do it." Vegeta comments.

The doctor pokes the cotton swab in Trunks' mouth and scrapes inside his cheek, immediately dunking the swab in a test tube before taking another q-tip and doing the same with Vegeta.

"All right, I'll send someone with the results tomorrow."

"Don't make me come back for you." Vegeta gives the doctor a glare before walking back into the chaos of the infirmary and exiting to the lobby, Trunks following behind him. Bulma's eyes were wide as she takes in the giant Saiyan symbol in the middle of the floor. He smiled to himself as she followed him into the elevator, turning around to stare at him.

"I didn't realize this place was so huge." She comments.

'Well she's only going to have a floor to get used to because I'm not letting her out of my sight.' He thought.

The doors opened on the sixtieth floor, which housed all the higher up Saiyans and the council. They had first had the nerve to try and place Vegeta on the second floor, along with the lower-level Saiyans, but he wasn't having it. Since they weren't many left, they wanted to all be equal and not have one leader leading them and disband the council, or what was left of them. Though Vegeta saw it all as bullshit in trying to all be _equal_. They were all so equal that he had to literary put the fear in that doctor just to get his kid checked out. So equal that he pretend not to feel the pitiful and sympathetic stares burning the back of his head as he walked around the place. Everything had changed once his father was murdered and Saiyan men, women, and children were killed as Frieza tried to take control. All in the name of equality. Then he had killed that psychopath and what message did he parade to the rest of the organization as they all marched forward? _Equality_? He didn't think so.

Bulma and Trunks follows him, her struggling to keep up with his footsteps. Vegeta walked down the hallway, which was thankfully empty and swiped his card to open the door to his penthouse style living quarters.

"Welcome home." He says.

The door swings inward and he steps into his suite. The hardwood floors were beaten down with age and covered in dark scuffmarks.

"Whoa, this place is awesome!" Trunks says running into the room, admiring the spacious dwellings and everything it had to offer.

The floor creaked as a tall woman with sleek black hair pinned into a bun walked into the living room. She wore a black dress patterned with white and pink flowers on satiny fabric. She beamed the moment she saw Vegeta, her face glowing with delight.

"Oh my goodness, is that him?" The woman asks, looking past Vegeta and towards Trunks.

"Yes that is him." Vegeta replied.

The woman then makes her way over to Trunks and kneels down to his level. "Hi there sweetie, what's your name?"

"It's Trunks." He replies with a small smile on his face.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Trunks." She says, pulling him into a big hug. She then turns to Vegeta. "I've got his room all set up." She then turns back to Trunks and starts pinching his cheeks. "Aren't you just a little cutie!"

"Thank you Nasu." Vegeta said.

Bulma's arm curled over his arm, gripping it hard. She stared at Nasu with mild indignation. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Woman, this is Nasu. She's married to one of the council members. Nasu, this is Bulma, my wife who ran off."

Nasu's redden smile widens and she sticks out a long, hairless arm that Bulma stared at for a few awkward seconds before taking it.

"Nice to meet you." She says in a tone that suggests otherwise.

Vegeta was sensing that this probably wasn't the best time to make introductions. Frankly, he wanted to be alone with his wife. The fact that he hadn't had a woman in seven years pounded at the back of his head. He was counting down the minutes until Trunks was asleep and he have her body to answer for all the time she'd spent away from him.

"Thank you for setting everything up Nasu. I owe you one."

"Just let me spend time with him and we'll call it even."

"Sure." Vegeta says, as Bulma gives him a reproachful stare.

Nasu gives another quick hug to Trunks, then heads towards the door. "I'll leave you two to catch up. I'll see you later Vegeta."

He nods in acknowledgement, then watches the back of her until the door shuts, finally enclosing them in the silence only broken by Trunks.

"So where's my room?" Trunks asks, hopping from one foot to the other. If the living room was this cool and spacious, he couldn't wait to see how his room looked.

"It's this way." Vegeta says, walking down the hall with Trunks on his heels. He stops at a door on the right and turns on the light switch.

"Awesome!" Trunks exclaims, as he clambers into the room.

The room was every little boys dream. The entire room was painted a sky blue with a wooden modern bunkbed that had stairs that led to the top bunk, with drawers built within the stairs. Next to the bed was a wooden dresser, and in the corner of the far right was a wooden desk and chair with a single lamp and drawers on top of it. On the wall above the desk was a bulletin board and around the room where pictures of black and white pictures of airplanes, trains, and colorful abstract shapes. There were even two bookshelves which one held plenty of books of different genres kids would want to read and the other was filled with different types of toys to adorn the shelves. But what really caught Trunks' eyes was the fifty-five inch television that was hung on the wall, along with the Xbox One that was stationed on the TV stand beneath the TV.

"This room is awesome!" Trunks said, looking around the room.

"So this is adequate for you?" Vegeta asked, who was standing in the doorway.

"It's great! Thanks dad!" He then ran to Vegeta to give him a hug in gratitude. "Can I play some games?"

"No, it's getting close to bedtime Trunks. You can play some games tomorrow?" Bulma said, coming into the room.

After a second of Trunks' groaning, he took the pair of pajamas that Bulma rummaged the drawers for, then headed down the hall towards the bathroom. Once Trunks left the room, Bulma turned her attention to Vegeta.

"Okay, what the hell is this?" She motioned around the room.

"This is me putting our family back together." He said.

She slapped her forehead. "Do you think you can just make me go with you and not face any consequences? I have a life in Sunrise Manor!"

He smirks at her. "You mean the life where you work two pathetic jobs trying to make ends meat in the ghetto? That's over now woman, and you'll thank me for it later."

"What about my things? The rent I'm supposed to pay?"

"Tell me the address and I'll take care of it." He watched as she paced Trunks' room, shaking her head. "You're not going back there, so get it out of your fucking head."

"Watch your mouth! Trunks could possibly hear you."

He rolled his eyes when Trunks suddenly bound back into the room, dressed and ready for bed in a yellow shirt and blue pants. He climbs the stairs on the bunkbed and climbs under the covers on the top bed. Bulma makes her way over to him and tucks him in.

"You brushed you teeth?" She asked him.

Trunks gave her a nod in affirmation. "Yep."

"Alright then. Good night and sweet dreams Trunks." Bulma said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the forehead.

"Night mom." Trunks replied, settling on his left side, pulling the covers up to his chin. "Night dad."

"Night Trunks." Vegeta replied back. It felt a bit odd, having to say goodnight. He never said goodnight to anyone before. Even when he was a child his father never wished him goodnight. But knowing that he was now a father himself, he was going to do things his father never done for him.

Bulma touched his arm and even though it was through his suit, it blazed across his skin. He grabbed her arms and forced her out of their son's room. She fought him, trying to twist out of his grip. He remembered how they used to be seven years ago, the fire he felt for her. He ripped the light jacket from her shoulders, which fell on the floor in a heap. All she had on was a thin V-neck t-shirt that made his cock jump, just because of the curves barely hiding down that shirt.

He wanted her, and he didn't know how much longer he could take it. "I've been looking for you for seven years."

She placed her palm on his chest, pushing him slightly. "I didn't ask you to."

"You are my wife."

"I didn't want to marry you!"

He ran his fingers through her aqua locks, and he remembered the girl with a head of hair just like hers in the playground. His mysterious blue, was the name he used to refer to as. The girl who, even as a boy, made him feel things he never felt before. When he was seven years old he had only gone to the neighborhood park and noticed her one day trying to catch grasshoppers and playing in the sandbox. Afterwards, she struck up a conversation with him and being the kid that he was startled by it, but had brushed her off. After a few more tries of her trying to talk to him and get him to play, he reluctantly gave in.

He was intrigued by her to say the least, mainly since he never saw someone with hair like hers before. That and the fact that she even wanted to hang around with someone like him. Even so, those visits to the park were the only times he felt some small amount of normalcy and happiness. He wasn't the heir to a powerful crime organization, around her, he was just a regular kid. But then he was ripped away from her and didn't see her for another twenty-three years. He was surprised when he saw her working at The Raven's Den. He never did think he would ever see that girl again, however he never imagined that she had grow up to be the gorgeous woman standing in front of him now, but she had. He was honest in telling her that he didn't believe in fate, but seeing her again and able to start something with her certainly changed his views. Now fate was able to find her again after seven years of searching for her. He finally had Bulma with him again, and Vegeta was certainly going to make sure she wouldn't leave him a third time.

"When I married you, I told you that we belonged together. You don't understand how real that is. You don't remember."

Bulma looked at him hopelessly, not knowing what he was talking about or who he really was. There wasn't a shred of the girl he knew as a kid.

"I understand why you kept the boy away from me. I don't like it, but I understand."

Her back hit the wall as he wrapped his hands around her waist, inhaling the scent of her body through her rain-soaked shirt. It was driving him wild with lust. His cock strained against his pants, almost painfully. Her lips parted, her chest raised and fell rapidly as his hands touched her skin. Vegeta leaned forward until he could feel her short, trembling breaths, and then he touched his lips to hers. The moment he tasted her lips, it was as if he was transported to seven years ago. She tasted the same, and he was going crazy. He dug his fingers into her short hair as he crushed his lips against hers. Bulma's palm pushing against his chest became a caress, and her back left the wall as she leant into him, kissing him back. She broke away from his lips, breathing hard, her eyes heavy.

"Vegeta, I'm not staying here."

"There's no way I'm letting you go now that I finally have you back. Your place is here with me."

"You don't get to decide where my place is!"

"Of course I do." He smirks at her fury, some of which must be directed toward herself. "And right now I've decided your place is in my bed."

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Okay guys, I decided to stop it here and not include the lemon in this chapter. Yeah, you guys probably knew it from the beginning I would do this. But hey you guys did get some information on what Vegeta was doing during the seven years he was searching for Bulma. And another major surprise, Vegeta and Bulma had met before when they were young! He remembered who she was, but sadly Bulma doesn't remember. But not to worry, this won't be the last time this is mentioned, it will be further explained in later chapters. But that was one of the reasons why Vegeta married her, because he remembered the girl who took his heart from a young age and now finally has her in his grasp. Next chapter will be the lemon guaranteed, so be on the look-out for that, until next time guys! ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

BlueMoon Goddess: Glad everyone liked the last chapter. And here is the lemon I promised you guys, so enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Bulma's eyes hardened with desire as Vegeta threw his suit jacket from his arms. He took her hips as she reached up without hesitation and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips pressed against his with a hunger that surprised him, as he grabbed the shirt at her waist and ripped it from her head, then took the bra straps off her shoulders. He twisted the clasp around her back, and the bra fell to the floor. She crushed his mouth with her kisses, nearly tearing his skin as she yanked the shirt off his back, and then he was pressed against warm, wonderful breasts.

Suddenly, it didn't matter to Vegeta anymore that his wife had fucked off for seven years with his kid. All he could think about at that moment were the two beautiful mounds in his hands. Round, pink nipples hardening against his palm. She leaned against his body, her hand moving down to his waist to grab his cock. God, he couldn't wait to feel her warm, wet pussy wrapped tight around his aching cock. It was already so hard he could smash bricks with it.

Vegeta pushed Bulma on the bed and she bent her knees to help take off her jeans. The rough fabric dragged on her hips, it snagging her panties and pulling them down her smooth thighs. He spreads his hands over them as soon as the last of her clothes fell from her legs. Seeing his wife's naked body sprawled on his bed made his veins run with fire. He spread her thighs as her back arched from his touch, his mouth watering at the pink pussy swollen with arousal. Bulma sat up, her breasts bouncing on her chest as she reached for his slacks and pulled them off his hips. She then dragged his briefs down as his cock sprung free and damn near smacked her in the face. She fisted his cock, sitting at the perfect height for a blowjob. He was consumed with an image of her lips wrapped around him as he thrust into her pretty mouth, his fist in her hair, but he knew that if he went that route he wouldn't last five minutes. Plus he wanted to finish inside her waiting pussy.

He grabbed the back of her head by her hair, which felt like silk in his fist. She winced in pain as he arched her head back and grabbed her neck with his other hand. "I'm not going to stop until I fuck another baby inside you."

Her mouth curved with a small smile. He was sure that she thought that he was joking, but she didn't know about the state of his family. He was the only man left standing, and if he wanted his family's name to keep living, he had better start fucking. If he was going to be honest though, tonight wasn't going to be about legacy or duty, it was going to be about making up for lost time. Seven years without so much as touching a woman, his balls were ready to burst. Vegeta crushed his lips against hers before she had a chance to retort and then his body fell over hers. He had spent hours, hell days, thinking about all the filthy things he'd do to Bulma once she was his again. Now that he had her, he couldn't remember any of those things. He couldn't string together a coherent thought.

The sting of her hands bit his skin, not because she was cold, but because of the fact he hadn't felt a woman's hand on his naked skin in over seven years. Bulma touched his chest, and slid over the muscles of his neck, anchoring there as he pushed her over the bed. She pulled him down, his hand buried in her short azure hair. Hunger clawed at him the moment she pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth as her tongue flicked inside, too aware of her breasts sloping gently over her chest and his cock so hard that he was pressing a brand into her thighs. He wanted to feel her surrender to him, so he dug his fingers into her hair to break the defiance from her eyes and she responded by sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and biting hard. He growled against the pain and broke from her lips. She panted as redness spread over her chest, her cheeks burning just as brightly. He wanted to laugh at the fury in her eyes.

"You're not fucking another baby inside me." Bulma's legs were wrapped around his waist. She couldn't want this more if she screamed it out loud.

"Are you going to stop me?" He ran his finger under her jaw and tipped her chin to force her to meet his gaze.

"Like I have a choice."

"I'm giving you one right now. We can fuck without a condom, or not all. _Seven fucking years_ Bulma." He searched her face. "And if I'm not mistaken, it's been just as long for you."

She turned away as the rosy pink hue on her cheeks darkened into magenta. "I didn't ask you to stay celibate."

"I'm a man of my word woman. I made a vow…we _both_ made vows."

"Sure, if you call being forced into that train wreck of a ceremony a vow."

Anger punctuated the lust circling his chest. "Do you want me to stop?"

"….No." She said in a breathless sigh. "I must be crazy…but I don't want you to stop." She lifted her head, her lips softening for a kiss, but he hung back. Vegeta didn't think he'd ever seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"Tell me you don't want me to kiss you right now."

"…I want you."

They meet again in a fiery kiss as an explosion seemed to take place in the pit of his stomach. Bulma's lips parted when he shifted his hips and let his cock glide over her wet pussy. He loosened his hand around her hair, grabbing her breasts instead, then lowered his head to them. Her gasp hit his ears when he swept his tongue over her hard pink nipples. Her skin sprouted goosebumps and he sucked her into his mouth, remembering and knowing how she would grab his hair and force his mouth against her breasts years ago. Her chest rose and fell and her fingers twined themselves in his hair, pushing and pulling as if she couldn't decide whether she wanted to throw him off or yank him closer.

"Vegeta…dammit."

He bit her before rising over her body, admiring the red marks before he lowered himself again, kissing her neck. "We made a son together. Let's do it again….and again."

"You're insane." She said in a breathless voice.

He nudged her again, and she squeezed her eyes shut. His head slid up and down as she bit her lips, not quite preventing a moan.

"Maybe, but you have to admit that it's hot as hell."

The back of his neck stung with pain as she dug her fingernails into his skin. "Just fuck me already!"

Vegeta's hands flew to her shoulder and neck as he shoved forward with so much force that her mouth opened in a wide circle. Bulma didn't make a sound as his cock buried into her deep, almost as if he fucked the air out of her chest. Then finally she moaned, his back stinging with her grip. Her wet warmth flowed around his cock, hugging it like a tight glove. He really needed to slow down, but he couldn't. He hammered at her, her breasts bouncing as every instinct screamed for him to fuck her faster. Her hands unglued from his back and anchored over his ass, then he grabbed her hips and gave her a violent thrust that made pain join sharply with pleasure. It took a few strokes before her tight walls loosened. Bulma cried out, her voice shaking with his rhythm and then she dug her fingers into him, urging him faster when he slowed down. Vegeta drove into her, yanking back her hips so that their bodies connected with a loud smack. Every thrust tore a cry from her lips, and a groan from his. His heart hammered against his chest as his cock throbbed with the need for release, almost as if it sensed that it already knocked up his wife and could do it again. His blood ran wild with the thought of her belly growing with his child who will carry his name, just like the one they already made.

Another thrust, and his balls tightened, releasing a flood of his seed inside her. He hammered Bulma hard as a sliver of ecstasy escaped the dam, and he felt another hot surge. She kept digging into his arms, but he pulled out with threads of white, still fucking hard as a rock. She lifted her dazed head.

"I'm not done." He grabbed one of her ankles and yanked her across the bed, then he picked her up in his arms. Vegeta planned on fucking her in front of a mirror so that she could see how much her body needed him. Then he shouldered into the bathroom, the door banging on the wall as he flipped on the light.

Bulma let out a shriek as he dropped her, then grabbed her shoulder and shoved her over the sink. It was a sexy sight. Him standing behind her as she braced herself on the bathroom counter, looking at him as her entire face flushed with heat. He grabbed a fistful of her cerulean locks in his fist as he palmed her back, forcing her to bend over. Then he sunk his dick into her primed pussy and pounded away. She launched forward, extending her arms to the wall to prevent herself from falling. Vegeta watched as her breasts swung, her ass jiggled as he nailed her. His fingers gouged into her cheeks, enjoying the view of his thick cock sliding in and out of her. Her hands slipped on the mirror and left damp marks.

"Vegeta, oh God!"

He looked at her face in the mirror, and he lifted his hand to smack her ass. The sound cracking through the air. "This was what you've been missing for the last seven years." He told her huskily.

His fingers almost slipped and he grabbed for purchase on her curvaceous hips, then he yanked back, hammering into her ass. The bathroom filled with the sound of her body smacking against his. Vegeta leaned forward, and Bulma flattened against the counter, her elbows bending with the force of his thrusts. He wrapped his hand around her and pinched her clit as her breathing reached a high pitch. Her arms buckled as a surge of energy ripped through his cock, filling her a second time as he drilled into her. Another jet flooded inside her as the blood drained from his head. His heart thundered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Shit. Her hair was a mess from his antics, but she still looked beautiful. She looked properly fucked, her lips swollen from kissing him, her sapphire eyes dazed. He kissed her again, his heartbeat pounding in his lips. Her arms slid around his naked back as she rested her head on his chest.

"Vegeta…"

He sweeps her off her feet, his cock still throbbing as he admired her naked curves pressed against his body. The blaze of desire banked to a smaller frame, but it was still there. It would be awhile before he was satisfied. Vegeta took her to his bedroom, setting her on the mattress as he grabbed the wedding ring perched on the nightstand. The ring she left behind when she ran off and had Trunks. Something stronger than disappointment made him taste acid as he looked at the diamond, which attempted to shine in the low light. Bulma pulled back her legs as he approached her, her eyes flickering from the ring to his face and her lips trembled. All he wanted to see was resignation, but he still saw defiance.

"You're going to put on this ring. And you're going to keep it on. There's no way out of this place."

She crossed her arms and thinned her lips, looking like just the picture of stubbornness. "You'll never convince me that this place is safe for us."

Vegeta stood over her, his voice grinding to a coarse growl. "They know you're a risk. You won't be allowed to leave the floor. If you disobey me, you won't be allowed to see the boy either."

"I'd like to see you try and keep me from my son!"

Bulma stood up, but he grabbed her shoulder with one hand and forced her back down to a sitting position.

"I can and I will. Trunks will be in the day program when I'm gone."

"You can't take him away from me. Don't you dare try and take him away from me!"

He pushed her back down, and she gripped the hand holding her hostage, trying to throw him off. "I don't want to, but I don't trust you."

"Is that what this is about? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you! Fuck me, beat me, but don't take my son away."

He gouged his fingers into her shoulder. "Shut up. You're not my whore, you're my wife." He grabbed her hand and slid the ring that he brought her years ago back on her finger.

"Wife? You mean captive right?"

Accusing blue eyes stabbed at him. He tried to think of the girl at the park. The girl he fell for all those years ago. But all he saw was the woman who stole his son and left him for seven years.

"Get some sleep." He told her, already walking out of the bedroom. "Tomorrow he gets initiated."

* * *

Sleep didn't come easy for Bulma. Even after a hot shower and from being fucked until her body was numb. She tried to get some sleep on Vegeta's bed, but her head kept pounding with the crazy, hot, yet incredibly risky unprotected sex. She rolled out of bed, giving up on the idea of trying to sleep. She looked out of the long rectangular window over the gray buildings washed in orange light.

"There must be some way out of here." She said to herself. She had did it before, she could do it again, right? However, something told her that this time around, it'd be a lot harder than it was the last time. And if Vegeta was right, the whole building will be watching for a woman with a seven year old leaving the organization. Plus with her hair it would be easy to spot her.

Bulma left the bedroom, grabbing one of Vegeta's button-up shirts and wrapping it around her. The apartment was shrouded in darkness as she headed to Trunks' room to check on him. Once she saw that he was fine and sleeping soundly, she made her way towards the living room in search of the kitchen. Since she was up, she might as well have a little snack. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. When she got to the living room, she noticed a figure siting on the couch. It was Vegeta. And from what she could see he was looking at a book of some sort. When she stepped a little closer, she saw that it was photos of Trunks he was looking at. Her photo album of Trunks to be exact. He must've gotten it when he went to her place to get her things.

However she noticed that he was looking at the pictures with a look that was a mix between awe and…hurt? It might be hard for her to admit it, but Bulma knew she did feel guilty for keeping him away from his son. Vegeta had missed so much of Trunks' firsts, it was hitting her a bit hard. During the seven years she would picture him and Trunks together. Having father and son outings, and other things that fathers did with their sons.

When she was really lonely though, she would always imagine her and Vegeta together. However she would always convince herself that it was ridiculous. Vegeta couldn't―wouldn't be a good father. Finally seeing him looking at Trunks' pictures and witnessing his interactions with Trunks earlier, gutted her to the core. For a moment she felt something almost tender for the man, because if it weren't for him, Trunks wouldn't exist.

"If you have something to say woman, then say it instead of hiding in the shadows." Vegeta's voice sounded, surprising Bulma. She didn't think he knew she was standing there.

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"Then what are you doing?" He asked, turning around to face her.

"I was just heading to the kitchen to get something to eat." She replied.

He stood up. "Well you're in luck. I'm a bit hungry myself, so I'll make us something." He then started heading toward the kitchen.

"You can cook?" Bulma asked him, following him into the kitchen.

"Of course I can cook. It's one of my many talents…besides making you come of course." He added the last bit with, Bulma was sure of, a smirk.

"Ha, ha, very funny."

They entered the kitchen and Vegeta started opening cabinets and getting out pots and pans and ingredients.

"Tell me what you meant by Trunks getting initiated." Bulma asked, as she leaned back on the counter, watching Vegeta move about the kitchen.

He barely glanced at her as he filled a pot full of water and placed it on the stove. "You'll find out soon enough."

That didn't sound good.

She glanced at the island in the middle of the kitchen and noticed an envelope. She picked it up and noticed it was blank. Was it a message? Curious about its contents, she opened it to find a letter as Vegeta stepped toward her. It was the paternity test, confirming that Vegeta shared half his genes with Trunks.

"Good. It's not like I had any doubts―"

"Clearly you had some."

He shook his head, as he then went back to preparing their meal. "I already knew the boy was my son the moment I saw him." He said, pulling out plates from the cabinets and setting them next to him.

"So now that it's confirmed that Trunks is your son, what happens? What does it mean for him?" She asked.

Vegeta scooped some pasta from the pot and placed it on the plate along with some sautéed spinach. He handed her a plate as she sat down at the island and began to eat. Surprisingly it was good. Guess he really did know how to throw down in the kitchen besides the bedroom as well.

"The boy needs to be initiated as soon as possible." He said, taking a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

She ground her teeth together. "Yeah, you said that. What does that mean exactly?"

"You'll see." He said maddeningly. Man he was starting to get on her fucking nerves with his short responses.

"Will you hut him?"

"Of course not. It's an initiation. An acquaintance of mine and his wife will be there, as well as Nasu as her husband, you met her already."

"I don't like her."

His eyes rolled at her. "Big surprise."

"She touched my son without my permission."

"I gave her permission."

'Yours doesn't count.' She thought, wishing she would voice it. But she knew that would be a bitchy thing to say. There was probably nothing wrong with that woman, but Bulma couldn't help but feel a seething dislike when she thought about the shine she took to her son.

"What's the process of being initiated?" She asked.

"It's a tradition all male children do when they are born into the organization. A small ceremony is performed and they become a full member of the Saiyan's for life."

She pushed her plate away angrily. "You don't get to do that―you don't get to decide for him what he wants to be!"

"Says who?"

"Says me! I'm his mother, and I don't' want him in this life!"

The apartment rung with her voice for a few seconds as Vegeta's face turned sour.

"My brother and father are dead."

"I-I'm sorry." She said, sympathetically.

"I need this. Don't you get it?" He said in a harsh voice.

"I didn't know what happened."

"I didn't pick this life for myself either Bulma. But I was born into it and I will be damned if I let my family's name die with me." He dropped his plate into the sink, not caring that it broke, then made his way out of the kitchen.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: So that's the end of this chapter! And hey, I didn't leave a cliffhanger like I usually do, so be happy about that guys. Also, I hope people aren't too mad about the lemon, and the fact that Bulma pretty much gave in to Vegeta pretty quickly. But hey, I'm sure some of you Vegeta fans wouldn't have said no to him either! Anyway, I will say it now, the next chapter will probably take a while to get up. I have other stories that need my attention and haven't been updated in a long time, and I need to get to those. So it might be awhile before I update this chapter again. And as always, until next time guys! ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

BlueMoon Goddess: Oh gosh guys, it feels like forever since I last updated this story! I hope I didn't keep you guys waiting too long, but I was focused on trying to finish out some of my other stories. However, this chapter is filled with some action that I think you guys will love and be intrigued by, so enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Bulma couldn't believe she was back in this place. Candles flickered in the hollowed holes in the rough, black basalt walls, which almost looked like they were shimmering. It was cold and strangely moist, just like a cave. There was only room for about six rows of pews, which seemed odd considering the size of the place. She sat in the first one, next to another woman who had her hair in a high bun. Everyone in the room was determined to ignore Bulma for the time being, which was fine by her.

What happened seven years ago was crazy. So out of place in modern society that she honestly forgot about her forced marriage. She convinced herself that it wasn't as bad as she remembered, which she couldn't make sense of anyway. How could this place with all its ancient traditions possibly exist in the bowels of Nevada? Is it really surprising that a decades old community would have some bizarre traditions? Not really, but she would've never expected it there.

People had riots over retailers trying to sneak in non-organic produce. A patriarchal society like this would have all the social justice warriors up in arms if they knew it existed. As much as Bulma wanted to close her eyes and pretend the Saiyan Organization didn't exist, she was back in this forsaken place, watching a priest or minister, for a better word, bless her son.

Vegeta stood near the altar with the priest, who was the same one who married them seven years ago. She was hoping he died, but no such luck. It was hard to admire Vegeta even when she was pissed at him. She'd forgotten how well he wore a suit. It was ink-black, the blue shirt the only hint of color as he walked with Trunks next to him, who wore a suit just like his father's. The priest grabbed a chalice and poured water in a large, brass basin, which was exactly like the ones used for baptism. The priest scooped up a little bit of water from the basin and then poured it over Trunks' head. Her hands tightened into fists on her knees as she watched them complete the ceremony. A bolt of anxiety hit her chest as the priest laid a hand on her son's head.

This was so fucked up!

Blood pounded in her veins as she watched them conscript Trunks to a lifetime of service to this place. He could've been anything in the world until now. He'll be a Saiyan, just another foot soldier for the organization to cause waves of misery wherever he goes. Then Vegeta joins her at the pew and sits down next to her, and her eyes burn with hot rage. She wanted to slap the proud smile off his face. If he thought she was going to lay back and let him breed her like a brood mare, he was dead wrong. Her first priority was to her son, not to Vegeta of the Saiyan organization.

He then put his arms around her, and to Bulma it was irritatingly comfortable. He palmed her shoulder, squeezed it hard as he planted a kiss on her head, beaming at her as though he was proud of her. The rage in her chest was punctured by his shining admiration.

The priest stood in front of the altar, giving a sermon of some sort, but quite frankly, Bulma couldn't care less. She couldn't take this. There was no escape from here, no way to shield her son from these lunatics. She kept looking away, but all it took was a glimpse at someone's hip, the gun strapped to their waist, for her to abandon all plans for an escape.

'You think these people are going to just let you slip by like last time?' An inner voice said. 'He just got his wife back, you're not going anywhere for a long time. There's nothing you can do…just accept it.'

How was she supposed to accept this?

Everyone stood up, talking amongst themselves. Vegeta prodded her shoulder and motioned that she should get up. He walked toward a crowd of men and women standing in the middle of the aisle, talking. It was a whirlwind of introductions. The only woman in the group was so nice and wrung her hand with such enthusiasm, it was surprising for her. Bulma moved on to the next person, and then the next, bewildered by the fact that they seem so welcoming, it was almost as if she was never stolen at all.

"….And this is Dorian, the man I was telling you about."

A man in his late fifties, early sixties with short black hair, but had a very kind smile, took Bulma's hand and squeezed. "How are you holding up?"

How was she supposed to answer that with everyone listening in? "Uh, fine."

He laughed in response to that, still holding her hand. "No you're not. But you will be, I promise." He pats her hand in a reassuring sort of way as his eyes wrinkle with a bit of sadness that seemed out of place among the rest of the happy, smiling people.

"This is my wife Nasu, who you met yesterday."

Bulma recognized the woman. Her sleek black hair looked like it was combed with an obsessive hand and pulled into a severe bun, perched on the back of her head with two silver chopsticks stabbing through it. The thick sheen of makeup and the carefully applied eyeliner didn't quite mask the desperation stirring in her eyes. She offered Bulma a polite smile through her dark red lips. She did nothing but smile at her, but Bulma wanted to take those chopsticks and jab her in the eyes.

"Hi again!"

Bulma forced her mouth into some kind of smile. Nasu wore a conservative black dress this time, the arms were all see-through lace, the rest solid black that clung to her every curve. Red pumps on her feet that made her legs seem even longer. She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but she lacked the confidence that came with beauty.

Nasu turned away from Bulma awkwardly to talk to Vegeta as Trunks was shuffled around like a freaking party favor. Bulma couldn't help but notice how Nasu's hand strayed to the strings of pearls on her neck when she looked at him, or the blush in her cheeks when he smiled at her in greeting.

"I was wondering if you'd be okay with looking after my son while I'm working."

Nasu's red mouth parted, blush fanning over her cheeks. "Of course. I'd love to."

She touches Vegeta's hand, and Bulma's stomach clenches hard. She wasn't sure whether it was because the woman was pawning at her husband, or because she was going to be babysitting her son. Then she pulls Trunks into her arms, picks him up and holds him against her chest, making the feeling in Bulma's chest worsen.

"He's perfect." Nasu says in a voice that's almost wistful, and dare Bulma say, tinged with jealousy?

She approaches them both, her teeth practically grinding together. "You didn't ask me if she could watch him."

Vegeta shot her a swift glare. "I've known her for years and I trust her."

"That doesn't mean you get to make decisions about Trunks' welfare for the both of us."

Nasu's perfectly flawless face broke with an uncertain smile. "I'll take good care of him. I run the daycare on the third floor, so he couldn't be in better hands."

'There are better hands, _mine_.' Bulma thought. "It's not that I don't believe you. I just don't know you, and I never leave my son in the care of strangers."

"She's not a stranger―"

"She is to me." She snapped at Vegeta.

Nasu flinched as though she struck her and the weak smile fluttered on her face. "I'm sorry." She said and hands Trunks to her, who had surprisingly fell asleep. Then she turned around, wiping the backs of her palms over her eyes.

Oh great.

Vegeta watched her go, outrage transforming his features. He round on Bulma furiously. "Woman, what the hell is your problem?"

"I didn't mean to upset her. For Christ sake Vegeta, is it my fault that she has a thin skin?"

"You don't have to be so fucking rude."

"Well excuse me for being upset that you kidnapped me and now you're taking my kid away from me when you're off doing whatever the hell you do during the day."

His hand closes over her upper arm as he pulled her out of the chapel, thanking people for coming as he marched her toward the elevator.

"Would you stop dragging me around?" She was getting pretty tired of being dragged around like cattle.

Vegeta paused to smile at some of the attendees heading towards the elevator. He pushed her into an empty one, and soon as the doors closed, he hit the emergency button to paralyze it. Trunks shifted a bit in Bulma's arms, but didn't seem to be fazed and wake from his sleep.

It was painful, but Bulma was distracted by a memory. Seven years ago, he brought her down this elevator and asked her if she felt the same about him. Her heart sped ahead as Vegeta looked at her, his features darkening and curling with lust. There was no warmth in his eyes, except for when he gazed at his son.

"I've been trying really hard to remember why the hell I wanted you so badly."

"I never asked for this."

He laughs hollowly. "Yeah, but you sure as hell didn't mind the perks while we were dating."

His fingers touch her throat, and a burning sensation like ice to her skin suddenly makes her heart clench. She can't fight the desire stirring inside her when he touches her, even though every instinct screams to run away from this place. Run away from this place? Or him? That was the question.

"It doesn't matter, because you're mine again."

"But we're not…" _In love_ , was what she wanted to say.

He nods, understanding anyway. "That doesn't matter either. You love our son, and that's all I care about." A devious smirk pulls at his lips as he suddenly palms her stomach, making her heart do backflips. "That and making more children with you. Fight all you want Bulma. I'll always be there to drag you into my arms."

Desire curdles with the rage blazing underneath his palm. He bends his head towards hers. "Always." He repeats, his coal eyes smoldering with lust. "The real question is…how hard are you going to make this on yourself?"

* * *

Bulma hardly slept at all on the dark-blue slipcovered couch. Her eyes still burned from earlier that morning when Vegeta got called on Saiyan business for a few hours and took Trunks away to be babysat by strangers. It was ugly and awful. Trunks seemed hesitate to go and being around other kids he didn't know. But Vegeta assured him that it would be fine and he then seemed to be alright with it, even though he still seemed nervous about it. However, Bulma was a different story. She begged Vegeta to leave her son behind, tortured with images of that woman with her hands around her son, but Vegeta just frowned at her and made his way out the door with Trunks.

It stabbed her in the darkness and the wound bled with her heartbeat. She had babysitters, but it was always on her terms and to people she vetted out completely. She couldn't shake the feeling that her son wasn't safe here.

The door knocked and she startled to a sitting position. She'd been so lost in her head that she wasn't even sure that she actually heard anything. Across the room, the door bounced against the frame again. She stood up, walking to the door. Her hand hesitated at the doorknob and clenched on it finally. Cautiously, she opened the door.

It was a tall guy, maybe almost six feet, and he had black spiky hair. She didn't remember seeing him at the church. He wore a grey suit with a blue dress shirt and grey tie, the common Saiyan wardrobe. His black eyes were watching Bulma curiously, and she wanted to bit back a "Who the hell are you?" seconds before it came out of her mouth. Whoever this guy was, he didn't look angry or scary like the rest of the Saiyans here. In fact, he looked, dare she say…friendly. Well there was no point on antagonizing him, since he looked like he was trying to be nice.

"Um hi…can I help you with something?"

"I'm here to help _you_ actually. My name's Kakarot, but you can call me Goku."

Goku? A ringing of understanding runs through her head. She remembered Vegeta talking about him a few times when they went out seven years ago. He was always complaining about some guy named Kakarot. Though even when he complained about him, she could tell that Vegeta respected the guy and saw him as a good comrade. So what would could this guy want with her?

She took his outstretched hand and shook it. "Bulma."

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah sure." She couldn't exactly refuse him. She stepped aside and Goku quickly walked in as a ball of nerves burned in her stomach. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. Should she offer him a drink?

"What's this about?"

"Let's have a seat."

Perplexed, she followed him into the living room where he took a quick look at the surroundings before sitting down on the slipcovered couch that she slept on. She takes a seat in the armchair closet to him as he bends over his knees, looking troubled. He stares into his hands, not even looking at her at all.

"You…you said you were here to help me?"

He finally lifted his head and gave her an imperceptible look. "What do you know about this place?"

'Is this a test?' She thought. 'Some kind of game to prove that I'm worth of belonging here?' "The Saiyans? Well it's a gang."

"We're more of an organization, but even that's not the right word for it. Members spend their whole lives here, raising kids, attending events―"

"―Charity gala dinners, holiday parties, and petting zoos. Yeah, I get it."

"What I'm trying to say is that it's not a terrible place to live. I know that you were married against your will. I know that Vegeta took you and your son from your home to bring you here." He paused and let her take it in for a moment. "If you tell me that you want to leave, I can help you get out of here and I promise you that Vegeta will never bother you again."

"Why would you do that? Vegeta is your leader and your comrade."

"He might be my friend and leader, but I never approved of many of the Saiyan customs. When I was a baby, my mother sent me to stay with my grandfather so I wouldn't have to be with the organization. However, when I was twelve my grandfather died and I was forced to come back into the organization. There was no choice and I had to do it."

Bulma licked her lips, thinking about the bizarre circumstances and wondering whether if people who tried to leave really couldn't escape from the Saiyans. Just listening to Goku's story, his own mother tried to keep him away from this place and it did him no good in the end.

"So you're offering to set me free? I can just take my son and get out of here?"

"Well, not exactly. I can't force a man to give up his child, especially when that child had already been initiated, but you can get out."

"And leave my son behind? Are you insane?" She didn't even want to think about that for a second. Her leaving the Saiyan organization, walking out those front doors and carving a life of her own somehow. Leaving her beautiful boy, Trunks behind in this insane place. Gone forever from his life. That thought alone teared her at the seams. She'd never recover from that lost.

"I figured that would be your reaction." Goku says, not at all looking surprised.

Heat flares in her chest as he stood up from the couch. "So that's it? That's all the help you have to offer me?"

"I'm sorry. But it's the only thing that can be done." He says, regretfully.

"That's not true. You can give me back Trunks. I want him with me, not looked after by a bunch of strangers!"

"I can't get involved in that."

"Then what good are you?"

"I can take you down to the daycare right now and show you that it's perfectly safe for your son. I can get you access to visit him whenever you want, but I can't tell Vegeta what to do with his son. That's his right."

"He's my child, I don't need permission."

His gaze softens. "I'm not saying what he's doing is right. Life isn't far. You think I want to be here anymore than you do?"

"At least you have a choice!"

"Come with me to the daycare. My wife and I use it all the time for our youngest son."

Because there was nothing to do and because Bulma couldn't stand the thought of strangers touching her son, she stood up to follow Goku out of the room.

* * *

Through a long, rectangular glass smudged with fingers, Bulma saw bright yellow walls plastered with children's drawings. Brightly colored cubbies sat in a row for all their shoes. There were boxes of Legos, balls, books, little craft tables smeared with remnants of Play-Doh, a plastic kitchen set, and everywhere she looked she saw happy children playing. The carpet barely had any scuffmarks and the walls almost shined.

"It looks very new."

Goku looks through the glass smiling, his arms crossed over his chest. "I requested to have it remodeled. Come, let's go inside."

Several of the women watching the children beam at Goku as he swiped his keycard and opened the door. A cacophony of laughing, talking, and crying blasts her as she walks into the daycare. Some of the kids recognize Goku, who must visit them often. An older, gray-haired woman in a bohemian dress greets him.

"Here to check up on Goten?"

"Mrs. Ouiji would like to visit her son as well."

It took Bulma few seconds to realize Goku meant her.

"Of course!" The older woman pointed towards another room. "He's in the other room."

They went through the door, and it didn't seem as rumbustious as the room they were in. Some of the children were either reading, doing puzzles, playing quietly or playing with the game system in the corner. A black-haired woman was sitting in the corner on a rug playing with two young boys in a dress that looked too good to be in around this type of children. There was no mistaking that heart-shaped face and that sickly smile as she greeted Goku. Bulma hung back for a moment, and realized that Trunks was playing right next to the woman. Her son looked like he was having the time of his life and his laughter filled the room and Nasu bent her head and gave him a kiss on his head.

'Get your fucking hands off my son!' Bulma was ready to fucking lose it. Goku walked inside, oblivious to her heart pounding loudly against her chest. She only had eyes for Nasu.

She marched over to the corner where she was playing with her son. Nasu's hands circled protectively over her son's body as Bulma bent over to pick him up.

"Are you supposed to be here?" Nasu asks.

"Mom!" Trunks says with a gleeful cry, him standing up, getting out of Nasu's reluctant grip and going into his mother's arm. Embracing her in a hug.

Bulma opened her mouth to snap at her that she was his mother and she can visit him whenever she damned well please, but Goku beat her to the punch.

"She's allowed to visit her son whenever she wishes, but she can't leave with him without Vegeta's permission. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Bulma hugged Trunks to her chest. Even though it was only a few hours, it felt like forever being able to hold her son again. He got out of her hug and grabbed her arm, pulling her over to an area with a variety of toys.

"Um, excuse me."

Bulma ignores Nasu.

"Bulma!"

Needled past endurance, she stopped and turned around. "I'm going to play with my son. Do I need your permission to do that as well? I'll answer that for you, no, because I'm his mother!"

Goku's mouth stretched in a grim smile, placing a conciliatory hand on Nasu's shoulder. By the time her words rang into silence, she had tears running down her cheeks. Tears…a string of guilt hits her chest as Goku pats her shoulder awkwardly and frowns at Bulma. Heat burns her cheeks as she lets Trunks lead her to the area he was talking about.

They both sit down on the rug and he pulls down a variety of toys and shows them to her. Bulma took the opportunity to check him over. She didn't know why she was searching for marks, though she really didn't seem to like Nasu. She knew that there was no good reason why she should dislike her. She had done nothing wrong, except show a little too much attention to her husband and even that wasn't a crime. Vegeta was a handsome man, and Nasu's husband was…well, far too old.

Bulma stood up, resigning herself to go and apologize to Nasu. She stood over in the corner, her long curtain of hair hiding her face, Goku nowhere to be found. Bulma approached her tentatively. "Um, Nasu? I'm really sorry for snapping at you. I've been a horrible person to you and you really don't deserve it."

Nasu looked up at her, her eyes only slightly pink. "Goku says that you can stay here for as long as you want." She says, not even acknowledging Bulma's apology. "You should thank him."

"I'm not going to thank anyone for allowing me access to my son. It's my right to see him whenever I want." Bulma says as politely as she can.

Nasu covers her mouth, and for a second Bulma thought she was crying again until she heard the sound of her simpering giggles. "It's your _right_? Where do you think you are sweetheart?"

 _Sweetheart_?

"I don't care where the hell I am. No one can keep me from my child."

"They can and they will. You think this is bad now? Keep up with your rude behavior, and you'll never see Trunks again."

"Is that a threat?"

"I'm one of the most powerful women in this place. I take care of the Saiyans children, they trust me, and your husband trusts me. I would be _really_ careful how you talk to me. Maybe you'll find yourself completely barred from visiting your son."

'I change my mind. The woman's a complete bitch.' Bulma thought, angrily. "I'd like to see you try bitch."

She raises her eyebrows and looks around as though embarrassed for Bulma. It incenses Bulma even more. "You really shouldn't use that kind of language around your son, don't you think?"

"No, what I _think_ is that you should mind your fucking business. He's my kid. Get your own!"

Nasu's face flushes with an ugly shade of puce. "Chances are we're going to end up raising him and you'll never see him again."

Bulma's heart hammers against her chest, her worst fear confirmed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you" Nasu faces her, still wearing that sweet smile that was completely at odds with the poison in her words. "You're just Vegeta's fucktoy. Once he's tired of your shit, he'll get rid of you and find another woman to bare his children."

'She's wrong. She's just fucking with me.' Bulma thought, her hands balled up into tight fits they were almost white. "You're lying."

She laughs, a high delirious sound. "You should tell that to Mrs. Lee. She got a bullet in her chest when the last higher up decided she wasn't a good fit for this place. You've made it perfectly clear that you don't want to be one of us."

Could there be a grain of truth in that story? Bulma thought. She sounded convincing and her steely gaze bore into her, daring her to call her wrong. How could she when she knew the organization better than Bulma did. Nasu wasn't lying about dying in this place. Even she heard about it when she was in hiding. She remembered filing it away in her brain, not wanting to dwell on the horrors there, but everything Nasu said brought all the fear she'd been suppressing back to the surface. Her ribs squeeze every last breath from her lungs. Before she knows it, she goes back to where Trunks was, grabs his wrist and makes her way toward the door.

"What are you doing?" Nasu asks, taking a step towards Bulma.

Bulma ignores her and twists the doorknob and leaves the room. Nothing was more important to her than Trunks. They were not taking him away from her. She wouldn't allow them too. She stumbles into the cheerful room filled with other children and navigates through the maze of toys. There was a man with a rifle right outside the glass doors.

'Shit! How come I didn't notice?' Bulma thought.

"Excuse me Mrs. Ouiji―"

"Don't touch me!"

"Mom, what's going on?" Trunks asks.

"We're leaving sweetheart." She told him calmly.

Someone's hand shrinks from her arm. "Bulma, what are you doing?"

"I'm leaving, I've had enough."

"You can't do that!"

She grabs the door, picking up her son and holding him securely in her arms. She pulls violently on the door.

"Stop her!"

The guard moves like a giant rock, completely blocking her path with the rifle in both hands. "You don't have clearance to take the child."

"Get out of my way!"

Feminine hands pull at her arms, and for the first time in her life, Bulma wanted to hurt and maim. Trunks' voice rises in a yell as Nasu tries to grab him.

"Don't touch him! Don't you dare take him from me!"

The older woman looks at Bulma with sympathetic eyes. "You've got to leave him here, dear."

"It doesn't make any sense!" Bulma screams at them both. "He's my child, _mine_!"

The guard grabs her shoulders, forcing her still as Nasu grabs Trunks by the waist. He calls out, reaching for Bulma, but she doesn't want to hurt him in a tug-of-war. A desperate sound she'd never heard before tears from her throat when Nasu cradles Trunks in her arms. The other woman turns away, but Nasu watches her buffeted back by the guard, a small triumphant sneer playing on her lips.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Well this was certainly a lot of action in this chapter. And we got introduced to Goku, who is going to be a great ally for Bulman and help her out in later chapters. Also it seems that Nasu's true colors showed in this chapter as well. She'll certainly be a challenge and cause even bigger problems later on, so look out for that. Until next time guys! ^_^


	9. Chapter 9

BlueMoon Goddess: Well, I'm back again with another chapter, and boy were you guys getting heated from the last chapter in your reviews! At least you all noticed Nasu was not the sweet innocent girl she made herself out to be. And keep a close eye on her, because she's gonna be involved in a bigger way soon. Also I wanted to address a note someone mentioned in their review regarding Trunks. I was told by a guest he acted a little bit younger than he was supposed to be. First off, thank you for letting me know. I had no idea his character still seemed pretty young for some of the scenes that happened. Second, even though it's been seven years since Trunks and Bulma were away from Vegeta, I have it were Trunks is six, not seven yet. So, he's still pretty young and in a way innocent to what exactly is going on.

Okay, hopefully, that clears everything up. If anyone else sees something in this story that doesn't add up, please let me know. Now that, that's it, sit back and enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

There was nothing left for Bulma to do in Vegeta's apartment, but cry, scream and take out her emotions on whatever inanimate objects he had lying around.

Nasu was lying to her. She was telling the truth. Vegeta wasn't a good man, but he wouldn't kill the mother of his child unless God, or the Saiyan counsel told him to. Bulma just didn't know. What she did know was that the bitch was playing some kind of game with her. Bulma's gut told her that it was rooted in jealousy. Nasu wanted Vegeta. Was that what she was trying to do? Drive a wedge between Bulma and Vegeta?

Goddam it. She had bigger problems than Nasu's petty jealousy. Wives were murdered in the organization in cold blood, and as much as she would like to believe Vegeta wouldn't hurt her, she didn't know him at all. Treading carefully was all she could do at the moment.

The sound of a voice echoed down the hallway outside the suite. It was Trunks' voice. Bulma stood up from the couch, slightly trembling as she heard the soft beep of the keycard. The door swung open, admitting Trunks and Vegeta. It was remarkable how much of a relief it was to see her husband, even though he was the one who brought her here. He looked a little disarray, his black eyes foreboding. There was a shine of color rising in one of his cheeks, and then it hit her for the second time today that she still had no clue who he is. What he was.

Trunks ran straight into her, giving her a giant hug as Vegeta walked right past them, tossing his keys aside on the kitchen counter. He ignored them completely as he walked into the living room, in front of the giant windows overlooking the city.

"Trunks." Vegeta said to his son, not turning his gaze from the window.

"Yea dad?" Trunks replied.

"Go to you room, I need to talk to your mother."

"Mom?" He asked, looking up at her, uncertainty set in his identical blue eyes.

"It's okay Trunks." Bulma told him reassuringly. "Go ahead and go."

He gave his mother another hug around her legs, and then made his way down the hall towards his room. Once her son was out of the room, Vegeta finally turned around and Bulma was met with a pissed off Vegeta.

"Vegeta―"

He held up a threatening finger. "In the bedroom. Now." He made his way down the hall with Bulma following behind him, not saying anything.

Once they were inside their room and the door shut, she was swallowed by her husband's presence, by the fact that they were all alone. That was usually enough to make her skin tingle with pleasure, but now there was fear.

"Well I was told an interesting story when I picked Trunks up from the daycare."

"Look Vegeta―"

"Nasu was in hysterics. Says you barged in there―"

"―She's lying!"

"―Called her a bitch."

"She is a bitch."

"And then you tried to leave with my son."

"I wasn't trying to leave!"

"They told me they had to drag you away from there."

"I was trying to take him away from that evil bitch!"

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's the most harmless woman in the organization."

"Why the hell is so obsessed with Trunks?" Bulma questioned him.

"She's not obsessed."

"You didn't hear the things she said. She seems to think that she'll be the one raising our son."

He looked at her for a long moment, searching for a lie. "She doesn't have any children of her own. She and Dorian tried for many years, but it never happened."

"Why did she marry him then? The man looks like he's in his early sixties."

Vegeta smiled wryly. "For the same reason a lot of girls do. To get out of the streets."

"Streets? Was she homeless?" Bulma asked him.

"She was whore."

"She's a whore?"

" _Was_ a whore." He corrected her sharply.

This was what Bulma was up against. The darling of the organization, the poor beautiful woman forced to marry a man twice her age who couldn't give her children. Poor Nasu. No matter what, Bulma would come out of this looking like a bitch.

"Did you sleep with her?"

His smirk was devious now, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks. What a stupid thing to ask him, and yet, she was curious to know the answer. He wrapped a hand around her waist, his fingers spreading over the small of her back. It was like a rush. His other hand buried in the back of her head, and she gave a sigh with the feeling of his fingers gently raking her scalp.

"Why do you want to know? Would that make you jealous?"

It only took a split second image of Nasu's magenta lips wrapped around her husband's dick for Bulma to be filled with rage. Not her…anyone but her.

"Yes."

He moved toward her, his mouth slightly parted. "You don't need to be jealous. After you, there wasn't anyone else. There will never be anyone else."

She touched his waist, every inch of her burning from his words. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in his smell. The hand at her neck moved to her shoulder, fingering her bra strap. Instead of slowing down, her heart sped up.

"What do you want from me?"

Wordlessly, he touched his palm over her flat belly. Babies. Right. To propagate the Ouiji bloodline.

"Why the fuck is that so important to you?"

Vegeta's hand moved back around her waist, setting off a million nerve endings. "I don't have anything else Bulma."

She sensed that there was more to it than he wanted to let on. Pain dented his eyes. "I'll give you whatever you want." She says.

"Ah, but have nothing to bargain with. Your body is already mine."

"Yeah, but I could make your life a living hell if I wanted too. All I want is more time with Trunks."

He cocked his head, searching for a lie somewhere on his face. Satisfied, he slowly nods. "You'll have more time with him, but you've got to hold up your end of the bargain."

"Which is what exactly?"

"I need another son."

"What if it's a girl?"

"I want kids Bulma, which means girls and boys."

"How many pregnancies do you think I'm capable of having?"

"It's important to me."

His cloying scent was around her, distracting her. "You know what's important to me? Freedom."

"Why the hell would you want to go back to that shitty apartment in Sunrise Manor?"

"At least I was free." She retorted.

"You weren't safe there. You would've been robbed, raped and when you think about it, that's not really freedom. Is it?"

"That's not true."

"I'm glad I got you out of there.

"Like this place is so much better. Trunks can't even play outside."

Vegeta continued his sensual massage of her lower back. His fingers crept under her shirt and blazed with the heat of her skin. "There's a park in the city. Red Ridge Park. It has a great playground and an area where he can play in the water. We can take him there."

It hit her like a sledgehammer. All those summers ago, her mom would take her to a park not too far from her childhood home. The memory shined like a bright candy wrapper. Bubblegum, hot dogs, fizzy drinks that foamed into her nose, and catching grasshoppers with her bare hands. A boy next to her, his knees just as dirty as hers. He showed up at the playground one day, looking like he didn't know what to do with himself. He stared at the other kids gallivanting around the playground, swinging on the monkey bars, and just stood there. At least, until there was a game of tag and they needed someone to be it. What was his name? Peter?

The park disappeared from her mind as Vegeta's hand swept up her back, exposing her skin to the sting of the cool air. He found her bra clasp and teased it out with an expert twist of his hand. Her breasts bounced, freed from their constraints as her bra fell limp from her arms. A tingling sensation spread over her skin as his hands groped around her chest to her breasts, hot in his hands. Bulma was insane for considering this. This man she barely knew, her husband, made it quite clear that he wanted to use her body for his family. He wanted another baby, but that might take weeks. Months even.

"It's been way to long." He says in a ragged voice. But even though his movements were thick with lust, his hands were deliberate.

"Did you pick me for this?"

Vegeta pulled the shirt off her back, throwing the bra aside. "I figured it was time to settle down and get married, and you were perfect. No crazy job, and no family to get in the way." He squeezed her nipple and tugged hard enough to make her center clench. "Gorgeous tits."

"You didn't know me." Bulma gasped.

"I didn't need too. I knew you'd bear my children, and that was enough."

Even with all his talk about duty and babies and whatever the fuck, he acted like a ravenous man with a morsel of meat. He pushed her against the wall, his body heat cascading over him, before his lips touched hers. It was a slow burn. First a solid pulse between her legs, and then it burned brighter as he grinned his fingers in the back of her neck, kissing her so deeply that she thought she'd faint. He let her go so they could breathe. She touched his face, his sinewy neck, down to his pecs, flexing under her fingers. Then she shoved his jacket off and he wrapped an arm around his waist so that she was trapped against him.

"You might hate me for it, but I wanted you for this." He cupped her through her jeans, digging his middle finger hard to rub against her nub. Bulma choked something out and teared a button out of his shirt accidentally. She decided she didn't hate him for it.

He smiled at her, and it was the same cocky smirk she remembered him wearing all those years ago. The sound of the button of her jeans snapping startled her, and then he unzipped her pants. They pooled around her feet and he cupped her pussy again, kneading her through her panties. She was overwhelmed with the smile on his face, his hand and the tent in his slacks.

She grabbed his thick, iron-like cock as his eyes glazed over. "I wanted you for this."

He laughed. "I guess that's fair."

"I'm not going to let you use me like a broodmare."

His lips hovered over hers, teasing. "I won't have to tell you to take off your clothes for much longer. You'll do it for me."

"Yeah right."

"You won't be able to help yourself from climbing into my arms every night and giving your body to me, over and over."

It was hard to argue when his hand was on her center. He slipped the fabric aside, and the heat of his hand touched her very wet region. Bulma made a sound that might've been a gasp or a whine. Vegeta laughed, kissing her neck. The skin on her nipples burned, but he avoided them. The sound of her breathing became painfully sharp as he trailed his lips down her stomach, all the way to her panties. She bucked when he kissed her needy clit. Then his fingers scraped her skin as he dragged the fabric off her ass, which he gave a slight squeeze before pulling them all the way down. She stepped out of them, her cheeks bright pink, because of the wetness between her thighs. Vegeta kneeled down, his head right between her legs, feeling his breath before she heard him.

"Spread your legs."

She obeyed, thinking of that heat inside of her and then he touched his lips to her nub. She grabbed his flamed hair and yanked hard as his tongue rolled over the swollen ball. His fingers grabbed her thighs for purchase as he leaned forward, reaching all the way back with his tongue.

"Oh my God." It was like she had forgotten how to breathe. She let out a long exhale, but her heat rammed against her ribs.

Vegeta's tongue moved inside her like a muscle made for pleasure. It curled up and massaged her clit, then his lips puckered and sucked at her. Lust hit her with a sharp prod, and she looked down. Fuck, she could probably come at the sight of his face buried between her thighs. Speaking of thighs, they quivered as he took deliberate flicks with his tongue, sending electrical jolts flying through her skin. She heard wetness, the lapping sounds of his tongue, and smelt the faint stench of sex. He paused for a moment, his head turning to burn his lips against her inner thigh. Slowly, deliberately, he grabbed a mouthful of thigh and bit while rubbing her clit. Another jolt rippled up her abdomen. He looked up, giving her a dark grin. Even when he was on his knees, he couldn't resist reminding her who was in charge. She was fine with him doing whatever the hell he wanted, as long as he didn't stop doing what he was doing.

Her center contracted against the cold and she buried her hands deep in his hair. No, more.

Vegeta smiled as he sank a finger inside her easily as butter. "I'm going to have your obedience Bulma, because you belong to me. This pussy is mine to fuck. I'm going to take your body every night, and if I want to cum on your tits, I will. If I decide I want your ass, I'll take that too."

Bulma never heard him talk like this. "I'm your wife."

"Yes, but you ran away from me and stole my son. I haven't forgotten, woman. That doesn't mean that I hate you, but you definitely need to be punished." His breathe gusted over her wet center, and he slipped his tongue in front of his finger, fucking her with his mouth.

Bulma's thighs tighten as a reluctant moan slipped from her mouth. This didn't feel like a punishment to her. He tongued her one last time before standing up from his knees. In seconds his hand fists her hair, pulling hard enough to knock her head against the wall. Then his lips crashed over hers, and she opened her mouth in a surprised gasp, melting when Vegeta's tongue swirled over hers. She tasted her wetness all over his lips and she didn't know why she liked it, only that it was hot as hell. It made her core heat to feel him lose control like that.

Bulma was ripped from the wall and spun around. Vegeta gripped the back of her neck and walked her forward, not toward the bed, but toward the door. Once they were in the living room and they were making their way toward the front door, she started to panic.

"What are you doing?" She dug her heels as he grabbed her hips and shoved her forward just as his breath hissed over her ear.

"I don't like being questioned while I'm trying to teach you a lesson. You're going to open that door and step outside, or I'll drag you."

"I'm naked! Are you insane?" Clearly he was.

"I don't like having my sanity questioned either."

"Fuck this!" She turned around, shoved his chest and he grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back. Vegeta's mad grin flashed at her as he forced her forward, his cock digging in her ass.

"I remember how afraid you were to suck my cock in that locker room the night we met. That's how I know this is perfect for you."

"Vegeta please!" She pleaded.

"Shh, you don't want to give our son a reason to come out here and see us like this now would you?" He whispered in her ear.

"No please, don't."

"And to ease your worries, it's late and there probably won't be anyone out there."

"What about security cameras?"

"We'll give them a nice show." He says in a completely unworried tone. Then he leans forwards and grabs the handle of the door. It flies open, and Vegeta pushes her through.

Bulma couldn't believe he was doing this to her. Twisted in her arms, she stumbles through the threshold and look wildly down the halls, just waiting for someone's voice to lift in a scream. It was deserted, but still well-lit and she could count the black globes on the ceiling, aimed directly at them. Vegeta could care less. The door snapped behind him, her last refuge, and he moved her into the center of the hallway. Her legs buckled, and he finally let her go.

"Please!" Bulma fell against his legs, trying to cover herself.

Vegeta laughed softly, bending down to slide his hands under her arms. He made her stand, one fist in her cerulean hair, the other hand hot on her breasts. Her heart hammered like a ceaseless drumbeat, knocking against her ribs.

'Just fuck him and get it over with.' She thought. She turned around, but he shook his head, smiling.

"We'll go back inside when I say it's over." He flattened her back against his chest, and her eyes dart down the hall. Any moment now, someone will come out and―her thoughts fractured.

Vegeta slipped his hands between her legs. She kept them closed. He slapped them impatiently, tutting in her ear. "The longer you fight me, the longer we stay out here."

She opened her legs a fraction and Vegeta moved his hand between the slickness of her thighs. 'Fear sweat.' She tells herself.

The hand in her hair loosens as he plays with her nub, rubbing the impatient bud in circles. Light kisses scald her already burning cheeks. Fear kept desire at bay. She wasn't going to enjoy any of this.

It was as though she could hear the lights humming. That's how quiet it was there. Her breathe hitched in a high gasp as he hooked his fingers, stabbing upward into her. Vegeta kept them anchored there, still blowing heat over her neck with his lascivious mouth. Bulma was aware of his fingers. Her heart still hammered wildly, although with excitement. The slick sound of his fingers echoed down the hall as he slid them in and out, and her cheeks heated with a fierce blush.

"No, don't do that. I want you here with me, feeling everything I'm doing to you." He said in a gritty voice.

"I am feeling."

"You're worrying about getting caught."

Anger rose in her chest. Of course she was worried about getting caught. He was fingering her in the middle of the goddamn hallway!

His finger twisted inside her, and a shuddering moan shook from her chest. She couldn't block the sound because, her arms were pinned behind her. He chuckled, kissing her ear. "You better be quiet."

She wanted to punch him in the face for how he said it in a singsong voice. Fucking her in the middle of the hall was just a joke to him. Though she didn't know. He sounded pretty serious.

She was so wet, she clenched her pussy over his fingers as he buried himself, unable to help herself. Obscene wet sounds picked up the rhythm as he fucked her faster. She bucked her hips against him and let out another ragged sound. He turned her head, kissing her hard enough to make her stagger.

"Vegeta, please, I'm too close."

He knew she got loud when she was close. Vegeta's fingers stopped moving, but he stayed buried inside her. Bulma gritted her teeth and stopped herself from moving back, impaling herself on them again. She hissed as he tongued her ear, and then let out a yelp when he bit her.

The hallway moved in a quick blur as he spun her around, shoving her against the wall. Her face and hands flattened against the wall so that she could stare down the hallway. Rapid movements, a zipper, and then a deep male moan as he grabbed her ass and pushed inside her. His fingers dug into her hips as he slowly eased himself in.

What the fuck was he taking his time for? She expected him to thrust hard and get it over with, but it seemed as though that was the last thing on his mind. Vegeta pushed, and her gasp hit the air. His thighs rode against hers as he pulled back while pushing forward. Her arms buckled against the wall, and then her breasts flattened.

"Are you embarrassed now? Are you too shy to take my cock in the middle of this hallway?"

"Please." She didn't know why she was begging him for anymore. Did she want him to finish quickly, or did she want him to fuck her?

"I'd bet you'd come right now if someone turned around the corner and saw us. Am I right?"

Nothing escaped her lips but a wordless, incoherent cry. He pulsed in and out slowly, his breath ragged and his muscles shaking with the effort of restraining himself. He thrusted deep and she screamed. For one heart-stopping moment, she imagined the sound of a pair of footsteps running toward them. He responded by sliding his hand between the wall and her mouth. Then with one hand gripping her waist, he rutted her with brutal speed. Bulma was thrown forward by the force of his thrusts, yanked back, thrown forward, as moans erupted from her mouth that weren't quite covered with his hand. She felt her orgasm right underneath the surface, like running a hand over water. It was right there, just waiting for the right nudge from his cock. He slipped a finger in her mouth, and she tightened her lips around him, taking him between her teeth. Then at the end of the hall, Bulma saw movement. A male figure wearing all black, and she thought she saw the shadow of his rifle. He put a foot forward, paused, and turned back the other way he came. Just another day in the Saiyan Organization.

SLAP.

Bulma's skin exploded with the sharp pain as Vegeta cracked his hand over her ass. The burn spread with the blunt pain of his hips slapping her flesh, and then he thrusted upward and anchored himself, letting out a deep grunt. The barrier shattered and her orgasm came flooding through, feeding her veins with euphoria. He pumped, sending jets of his seed inside her as he slammed his hips into her a few more times before pulling out, his arms still wrapped around her waist. He nuzzled her neck, planting hot kisses as his chest blew with huge breaths.

"I can't believe this hall is still deserted." She said, surprised.

"It's empty because they heard the noise we were making."

She balled her fist in his shirt as he pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. She practically glued herself to his side as he walked back to the door. 'By all means, take your time asshole.'

Vegeta opened it, and she squeezed through the door, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.

"We've got dinner with some people in an hour." He said, as they made their way towards their bedroom. Closing the door once they were both inside.

"What?"

"Yeah." He says, face darkening at her tone. "And Nasu will be there. I expect you to apologize to her."

Bulma grabbed her discarded clothes, holding them to her chest. "I'm not apologizing to her."

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "All right. I could go another round."

Her clothes flew to the ground as he grabbed her arm and yanked her into his chest, heading for the door again. "No! I won't―All right, all right, fine! Fine, I'll apologize to her!"

Smirking, he dropped her arm and stooped down to pick up her clothes. He may have given her some of the best sex she'd ever had, but right now, she wanted to punch that blasted smile off his smug face. She ripped the clothes from his arms and stalked into the bathroom, slamming it shut behind her. She felt fire at her sides, eating away the glow of her orgasm.

" _You're his fucktoy."_ Nasu screamed it at her then, red in the face as she hurled that vicious snarl.

Jealousy. It had to be just jealousy.

Bulma curled her toes against the cold tiles, listening to Vegeta's broad footsteps creaking the floorboards. The door opened and he found her standing there in the dark. The light poked her hard in the eyes as he flicked the switch, and then he moved her aside with his arm like an inanimate object before moving to the shower. He stepped inside alone.

'Just jealousy.' She thought.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Well I hope you all enjoyed this hot lemony chapter! Vegeta sure enjoyed punishing Bulma for her little stunt in the daycare earlier (though Bulma didn't seem to mind the punishment either). Also, it does seem that Bulma is starting to remember a certain someone she met at the park as well. Maybe she'll realize who it was soon. But the next chapter is gonna get even hotter, because it's going to take a turn in the plot, so be ready. So until then, see you all next time guys!


	10. Chapter 10

BlueMoon Goddess: Before I start, I first want to address a few things. Based on some reviews I saw, it seems that the content in this story is hard for some people to digest and so feel uncomfortable. For your benefit, I will make a warning in future chapters so you can skip it. Secondly, yes this is a romance. Though it's more drama and very angst at the moment. It is a bit dark (which I forgot to warn in the beginning and for that I do apologize), but the romance is going to happen eventually, and it'll get better for Bulma and Vegeta. At the moment it's just drama and dark romance but it'll get better, I guarantee it. But like I mentioned, I will start to post warnings in the beginning of the chapter to warn people so you can know when to read and when to skip.

Also, I'm glad from your reviews that you enjoyed the last chapter. Well…at least some of you did. Some didn't really enjoy what happened last chapter and what's going on at the moment. But I'm sure you're all anxious to see what happens next, though! This chapter takes place from last time, and this things start to get a bit more interesting. So sit back and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Steam poured from the cracks of glass, and the cooler air stung Bulma's damp body. She stood naked in front of the mirror, exactly where Vegeta left her. She didn't think he could see what her face looked like in the darkness, when she thought she was safe from him, but that same mask of defiance was mirrored around him. On the men who used to bend their knees to him. However, he didn't like seeing it on her.

Though, within the organization, it was all about ranking. If you were a low rank, it was probably better you hung around someone who was of higher ranking. Vegeta had always been of higher rank, but lately it was as though some were trying to undermine him and treat him like some low-class scum. He had to do something to all those who wanted to undermine him, starting with Bulma. If he couldn't get her, his own wife, under control, well…that'll be one more knock down the food chain.

He toweled himself off and hung it on the nearest rack, his hair already shooting up into its infamous black flame. Bulma moved past him, Vegeta noticing that her ass was still red with his handprint, admired the view as she reached into the shower to turn it back on. She caught him staring at her and she gave him a sullen look. Vegeta didn't care though. She could be pissed off all she wanted, so long as she gave him what he wanted and needed.

He closed the door to the bathroom and walked into the bedroom, dressing quickly into a black suit vest with a pair of matching pants, a grey shirt underneath and a black tie. After dressing, he made his way to Trunks' room. Vegeta found him, standing in front of his bedroom mirror trying to tie the black tie to his suit, with a look of pure determination on his face. Before Vegeta took his shower, he went into Trunks' room and told him they were all having dinner at an associates of his and for him to wear the outfit he provided for him.

"Come here, son." Vegeta said, making his way over to Trunks and standing beside him, undoing his on tie. "Now watch me closely and do what I do."

Vegeta proceeded to slowly tie his tie, with Trunks watching closely and mimicking the motions of his father. Looking at his son through the mirror as they tied their ties, there was a small tugging at his heart. His own father had taught him to tie a tie when he was Trunks' age, and whenever they had to attend any type of affair, Vegeta and his father always stood in front of the mirror and they would each tie their own ties. Now, being able to have the opportunity to do the same thing with his own son, Vegeta was feeling a surge of pride running through him.

It was then that Bulma poked her head in the room, a slight smile flickering on her face as she watched them. "I'm ready." She was wearing a black cocktail dress that flared out to her knees. It was covered in delicate lace patterned in roses, which ran all the way up her neck and around.

"Good. Let's go." He took her hand and they left the suite.

"So who are we having dinner with?" Bulma asked, once they were all in the hallway.

"Just a few associates of mine. We usually try to get together every week or so, especially since most of the members within the organization are dead. It's more of a remembrance dinner for them."

"Including your father, since he was the founder and leader of the Saiyan Organization?" When he didn't say anything, she gave him a wary look. "How exactly did he die, Vegeta?"

"I don't like talking about it."

Fear crept into her voice. "He was killed here, wasn't he?"

'He was cut down like a dog.' Vegeta thought, angrily.

It played in his head like an old-fashioned war reel. A black and white image of a man smiling as he grabbed his father's hair, wrenched his head back, and moved his arm in a quick jerking motion. It happened so fast. There was nothing Vegeta could've done, but his brother Tarble…his father gave Vegeta the job to him, and he wasn't there to stop it from happening. There was no one left to scream at him for not protecting his younger brother.

"It's over." Vegeta told her. "That's all you need to know."

"Vegeta, this place barely survived a massacre." She whispered, making sure Trunks didn't hear. "Even though this happened four years ago, you can't seriously expect me to believe that the dust has settled from everything."

It hadn't.

There was some tension between members in the organization, Vegeta would admit that, but so far, he and Goku had done a good job of keeping every Saiyan in line.

"There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. So you don't need to worry about it."

"All right, fine." She replied, knowing that it was futile to try and say otherwise.

'Let it go. The men who killed them are dead.' Vegeta thought. But the rotten taste, the guilt, it still stained his mouth. He didn't even get to avenge them. Even though Vegeta's ascent to power was another bloodbath, and he remembered it as clear as day. The bodies spilling bright red on the marble floors, and his foot jutting into one. He turned it over, and it was the face of one of them, and he felt nothing but a swift rage for him and the one who killed him. No, even revenge was denied to Vegeta.

He asked God why so many times, he had sores on his knees from all the time he would spend in the chapel praying for guidance. What reason did Frieza have to cut down his family, after so many years of forming that truce between the Icejins and Saiyans? Even though, he asked that question so many times, Vegeta knew the answer. It was all about power. He knew that the Icejin were worried that one day the Saiyans would one day overrun them, which is why Frieza launched that attack and nearly wiped out the entire organization.

The thought stayed with him as they reached the end of the hall. Vegeta raised his fist to knock on the door. It opened on the second knock, and a woman with black hair pulled up in a bun and wearing a purple cocktail dress, smiled warmly at them.

"Vegeta, nice to see you." She then turned to Bulma, beaming at her. "Hello Mrs. Ouiji, how are you? Ooh, I love your dress!"

"Um, thanks." Bulma replied.

They step inside the modest apartment and saw the dining room table set for a party of twelve, and there was a roast chicken platter with vegetables, dinner rolls, mashed potatoes and other delicious food piled on the table.

However, when they stepped further into the room, a low, feminine moan broke through the air. Bulma stiffened at Vegeta's side and the woman who opened the door turned around, wincing. There was a young woman sobbing, as they saw Violet comforting her in the corner.

Vegeta's stomach clenched uncomfortably as his eyes strayed unwillingly to the console table laden with pictures of slayed members of the organization, including his father and brother. Still looking back on it, he remembered the first few weeks were the hardest, like a constant throbbing in his chest and his head filled with poison. He couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep.

Shame rushed in quickly to fill the void they left behind, and every time he saw pictures or constant reminders of them, it was another punch to his gut. He resented it.

A body suddenly edged to his side, pressing into his suit and a breeze of a familiar scent wafted in front of his nose. Bulma's arm slid around his back to grip his waist. She squeezed him, giving Vegeta a sad little smile. A day ago she was begging him to leave, and now she was pretending to, what, be a good wife? He didn't get it.

"Who killed them?" She asked him quietly.

In slow motion Vegeta saw the sword protruding from Tarble's stomach. "Frieza. He killed my father…then my brother Tarble. Then he and his men wiped out nearly half of the Saiyans."

Her face whitened. "You mean, the leader of the Icejin?" She had heard about the Icejins, and from what she heard, they were worse than the Saiyans.

"They're dead."

"How can you tell me this place is safe for us? Frieza was able to infiltrate this place so easily and killed your family along with everyone here."

Vegeta made his way to an empty bedroom with Bulma following right behind him, giving them the privacy they needed to talk about the matter. Trunks had went off earlier and joined a few of the other kids in attendance as soon as they walked in the apartment.

"Vegeta, please talk to me. I'm trying to understand this place. I'm trying to understand you."

"I'm an Ouiji. I am the son of the founder of the Saiyans, and now I am the leader of this organization. There are other members of the Saiyans that make up a council, though some resent us on the council and resent me. Go figure."

"Oh God."

"That's why I can't have you undermining me in this place. It's dangerous, do you understand? I might be leader of the Saiyans, but there are some that despise me, especially because of my rise to power."

"My God, Vegeta, you just said this place was safe for us!" Bulma whispered angrily at him. "Why the hell did you bring us here?"

"Because I needed my family!" His fist slammed against the wall, making a little dent. Bulma's hand flew to her chest and she jumped back, and he felt a tinge of guilt for frightening her. "I'm trying to put this place back together, piece by piece. Kakarot means well, but his soft ways are not going to help this organization."

"Of all the people, he's the only one I like."

"What? You've never met him before."

"Yes I have."

"Where?"

She blinks and then looks away. "Never mind."

Vegeta stares at her, her eyes slowly heating up as he looks at her lying face. "Where Bulma?"

"It's not…just forget about it."

He grabs her wrist and yanks her body until she was pressed against his front. "Tell me or I take you out in the hall and give you another punishment."

She hesitates, then says. "He came to the apartment after you left.

"What?"

"He just wanted to know if I was all right, and if I needed anything…" She keeps babbling in a fast voice that trembles in fear.

"He tried to convince you to leave, didn't he?"

"No, he didn't do anything like that!"

Vegeta was beyond pissed. That third-class piece of shit went behind his back and tried to undermine his rights as a husband. He released her, with her stumbling a bit back. For a moment he felt a surge of rage for her, but she didn't leave. She stayed. Goku was the one who deserved his wrath.

"Stay here. I'll be back soon." He said, making his way out of the bedroom, heading towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" She called after him.

'To fucking kill him.' Vegeta thought angrily.

* * *

Pissed as hell, Vegeta finally made it to the training room, and he saw Goku wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white tank, practicing some martial arts routines. Vegeta yanked the doors open to the training room, and Goku stopped mid-kick when he heard Vegeta burst through. There was a look of surprise on his face when he saw Vegeta making his way towards him.

"What the fuck did you tell my wife?"

Goku drops his shocked expression and replaces it with a look of understanding. "Vegeta, look—"

Before he got a word out, Vegeta punched him square in the face, knocking him back a few steps. While being off balanced from the hit to the face, Vegeta then lunged again with his fist, a hard force crushing Goku's lungs. This time he stumbled back.

"How dare you go see my wife without my permission!"

"All I did was make sure she was alright Vegeta." Goku replied, still a bit in pain from the blows.

"That's not all you did. You tried to help her leave!"

"And she decided to stay."

"That doesn't matter. You still went behind my back, and for that I deserve the right to kill your treacherous ass."

"Times are changing Vegeta. The Saiyan's need to appear as clean as possible, which means no kidnapping, and no missing persons' cases. You're the leader, and you should understand this."

"I found the woman living in a shoebox in the ghetto with a son I never knew I had. I saved her from that hellhole, and I'm not sorry I did it. How fucking dare you go behind my back and try to rip her away from me?!"

Goku didn't say anything for a few moments, he just watched him. "I became your second in command the moment Nappa and Raditz died."

"And I will easily find another one if you continue to go behind my back." Vegeta then gripped his hand around Goku's throat. Crushing his windpipe as he felt his heart beating against his fingers. "If you talk to me wife again about leaving, I _will_ kill you. And I won't hesitate to do so if I think you're not on my side, understand?" Vegeta then released him and the color slowly returned to Goku's face.

Before turning to leave, Vegeta gave Goku one last remark. "Whatever you're trying to do isn't going to work. The peace we have at the moment isn't going to last." And with that, he leaves Goku, who still rubbing his throat.

Vegeta leaves the training room, heading toward the stairs. He put his foot on the first step before he realizes he can't go back like he was now. His heart pounded, feeding the rage inside him. His footsteps echo loudly as he descends, heading toward the chapel. He opens the door inside and finds it empty. He says a silent prayer of thanks as he steps into the room. There were dozens of candles flickering, most of them melted down to stubs. Off to the side, there was a row of unlit candles, and he grabbed one of the long wooden sticks offered in a cylinder and lite two of them. The fresh wicks burned, softening the wax. The little flames dancing at him, and he watched them carefully, as if the movements of the flames were some kind of communication to him.

'Your father and brother wouldn't talk to you through a fucking candle.' He thought. But it didn't stop him from coming to the chapel every night and lighting one for the both of them. He didn't know why he did it, or what it was supposed to mean.

Two words kept expanding further and further apart. The one with his family, and the one with his father and brother gone forever. He wanted them back, and he couldn't have them back, so he lit candles. How fucking pathetic.

"I wish you could've met my son." He said softly, towards the darkness. The flames pulsing, bright in the darkness. It was as though they were with him. He could feel his father and brother's shoulders touching his as he sat back in the pew, and he can almost hear the ghost of his brother's response. The pain in Vegeta's chest eased somewhat, and he felt better.

"I wish you could've met her too." And he can almost feel his father rubbing his shoulder like he always used to do.

After a few more minutes in the chapel, Vegeta decided it was time to makes his way back to Bulma. Taking a quick look at his Rolex, he saw it was nine-thirty p.m. Shit. He didn't know it was that late already. By this time, he was sure that she and Trunks were already back at the suite. He takes the stairs two at a time to his floor and opens the door…the sound of screaming immediately hitting his ears. It was a woman's voice, terrified. Was it Bulma?

He sprinted down the hallway toward the wailing. There were already people poured outside, but he rammed his shoulder into the door first. He saw the back of a woman, bent over a body on the floor. She had black hair. It wasn't Bulma. Thank God. His lungs nearly collapse in relief.

"What's wrong?"

The woman straightens and turns her head, and Vegeta recognizes Nasu's tear-stained face. The man lying on the floor, Dorian, his eyes were closed. Then her hair shifts and Vegeta saw the knife buried deep in the man's chest.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Now we have a murder on our hands! The twists in this story just keep getting more and more complex. Well I should have the next chapter up within a few weeks, so be on the look-out for it, until next time guys! ^_^


	11. Chapter 11

BlueMoon Goddess: I'm back! Man guys, I can't believe it's been this long since I updated this story. I really didn't mean to prolong this chapter, however, I have been busy with life and other little projects I have coming up, but I have the time now, and this chapter was long overdue, so I hope that you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Nasu cried beautifully.

Her black eyes shined like obsidian rocks, but there was no hint of red in the white of her eyes. Glassy tears ran down her rosy cheeks, somehow keeping most of her makeup intact. She was like a Renaissance painting, beautiful in her tragedy. Quiet, measured gasps filled the space around her, so unlike the hysterical sobbing Bulma expected when someone's spouse died.

Bulma was amazed by it, really. How does she do it? Was it simply the fact that the black lace veil she wore over her face hid most of the damage? Was every strand of hair on her head perfectly arranged like some kind of centerpiece? Was her lipstick smudged a little or was there black mascara running down her face. No, Nasu woke up on the day of her husband's funeral and put hours into getting ready for it.

Christ, that's not a crime. Who was Bulma to judge? 'Stop being a fucking bitch. She just lost her husband. And keeps clinging to _mine_.' Bulma watched as Nasu hung onto Vegeta's arm, positively sobbing into his shoulder. Full of concern, he snaked an arm around her shoulders and he whispered something in her ear. Then she laid her head on his shoulder, and Bulma's gut burned with envy

'She just lost her husband.' Bulma chanted in her head. She would feel sorry for her if it weren't certain that her tears were one big fucking act. 'You're heartless.'

A fresh wave of guilt hit her, but the conviction that she was right didn't fade away. Fuck, shouldn't' she be more worried that there was a psycho killer on the loose?

Vegeta looked at her, his face pinched with worry as he rubbed Nasu's arm.

"What happened?"

He shakes his head. "She said she found him lying there when she went back to her suite. Unbelievable. Dorian was such a nice guy. Everyone liked him."

"Clearly someone didn't." Bulma commented.

Nasu's bawling grew louder and Bulma inwardly winced.

"I'm going to find him." Vegeta stated.

"How are you going to do that? Vegeta, this happened on our floor."

"I know, and I'm taking it seriously. I will find him, whoever it was, and fucking kill him."

Now wasn't the time to argue with him. this place wasn't safe, and Bulma knew it the moment she walked through those doors seven years ago and it was reinforced when she read the mayhem in the papers and again today.

* * *

The funeral was moved to a larger conference room so that everyone could attend. Bulma clutched Trunks' hand. Any one of these people within the organization could've done it. But why Dorian? Why stab a man in his late fifties in the chest and leave him there for his wife to find? Her stomach was rolling with a sick feeling. No matter what Bulma thought of Nasu, she wouldn't wish that on anyone. But the woman was really laying it on thick. Anger stabbed in her chest with every sigh Nasu made into Vegeta's neck. She gazed at him in watery adoration as he held her hand. It was so obvious that she was carrying a torch for him, but she couldn't let herself get angry. Bulma absolutely couldn't.

The priest walked up and down, swinging a pail of burning incense that watered Bulma's eyes. The whole congregation muttered a few lines, and then everyone stood up to view the coffin. Everyone moved in a single file line and at the head of the line was Nasu, followed by Vegeta. She grabbed the edge of the coffin and leaned over it for support, then collapsed the moment she reached Dorian's head, Vegeta quickly stopping quickly to catch her. There was a volley of shocked gasps as Vegeta helped her to her feet.

Bulma sucked in a nervous breath when it was her turn to look into the coffin. Luckily, she had Trunks stay in his seat so he wouldn't have to see a dead body. Once she got closer she noticed that Dorian's face, pleasant in life, looked ancient in death. The makeup caked over his skin made him look older than his sixty years. Her gaze traveled over the two palms folded over his chest, where someone stabbed him fifteen times, and a chill ran down her spine. It made her sick to think that someone looked that man in the face and stabbed him not once, but fifteen times.

She looked back over to the pew where she left Trunks and thanked heaven above that he was here. She probably would've lost her mind if she didn't have her son in her life. He had been remarkably quiet the entire time they were in church. He was probably taking everything in with stride. Deciding to take him back to the suite, she went back to the pew and led him to a little alcove away from everyone else, content to be alone with her son. She twists her head around, looking for Vegeta, but he was nowhere to be found.

A sniffling sound made her turn around, and there was Nasu, standing in the dark. An unpleasant surge of energy hit Bulma's heart. Nasu still looked perfectly groomed, the only evidence of her grief two drops trembling from her chin. Aside from the tears hanging precariously on her chin, she looked like someone in a zombified state. There was no spark of recognition in her eyes when she glanced at Bulma.

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Bulma told her, sympathetically.

Nasu nodded in an automated sort of way, as if she heard the same thing countless times and was just drumming out the appropriate response.

'Damn, I'm totally being a bitch, aren't I.' Bulma thought.

Nasu's face focused on Trunks' face and then her face crumpled in the first real show of emotion Bulma had seen on her today.

Nasu sucked in her breath, her fuchsia lips trembling. "Give him to me."

'What?' Bulma thought.

Nasu held her hands outstretched, her penciled in eyebrows narrowing as Bulma took a step back, with Trunks following suit with her movements. Why did Nasu want her son? And why the hell was she demanding for him?

"No." Bulma didn't say anything more, because she didn't want to upset Nasu. There was something off about her, and Bulma could feel it. Her jaw dropped when Nasu took an aggressive step forward, her reaching down and picking Trunks up, holding him against her form. Nasu looked at Bulma with poison as though her hand holding Trunks was some kind of insult. Her eyes widened and then she reached in the protective circle of Bulma's arms and grabbed Trunks. She lifted him halfway out of her arms and Bulma's hands locked around his middle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He lifts in her hands and a brief moment of joy breaks over Nasu's stricken face before the room echoes with Bulma's scream. Then Trunks burst into a loud wail and she held him to her breast, cradling him. He reached for Bulma and she wrapped her hands around his body and ripped him out of her arms.

"Don't touch my son!"

A look of pure hatred twisted Nasu's pretty face into something nasty. Bulma had never seen anyone look at her with that much hatred. "He's mine, you fucking bitch."

The air disappeared from Bulma's chest just as a man's body slid into hers. Vegeta's arm slid around her waist and anchored securely just as Nasu's expression slid back into one of mute acceptance.

'He's mine. Does she mean Vegeta, or Trunks?' Bulma thought.

"You all right?" Vegeta askes Bulma.

"We need to leave." She tells him, his face stunned.

Bulma held Trunks tightly against her chest that she was sure it was uncomfortable to him, and then she stormed towards the exit. She was having no more of this bullshit.

Vegeta caught up to her, his hand on her shoulder slowing her down. "Hey, what the hell happened just now?"

Bulma ignored him, her heels slamming on the marble floor like gunshots as she headed towards the elevator. The pressure built behind her face and she wanted to explode.

Fuck Vegeta.

Fuck Nasu.

Fuck the entire Saiyan Organization.

She just wanted to go some to a place where people wouldn't try to snatch her son out of her arms.

"Don't walk away from me, woman."

"I'm walking away from that crazy woman!" She said, loudly.

But from the shocked looks people were giving to each other when Nasu ripped Trunks from her arms, Bulma didn't think she was the only one thinking the same thing. Vegeta grabbed her arm as she jabbed the elevator button with her knee.

"Bulma, what's wrong?"

She took that gentle tone in his voice. For some reason it made a golf-ball sized lump appear in her throat and Trunks pleas for her to loosen her grip on him worsened. Vegeta reached out to pull Trunks from her arms, and sat him down on his feet. He then pulled them into the elevator and then it shook from her mouth.

"She took him from me. Nasu told me to give Trunks to her and I said no, and she took him from me anyway."

"What?"

"She ripped him from my arms! I'm his mother, and I don't have a say in who touches my child! That's why I'm upset!"

Vegeta looked disturbed as he listened to her. "She shouldn't have done that."

"She called me a bitch." She said leaning into Vegeta, so Trunks wouldn't hear.

His face darkened, but he wrapped both arms around her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the smell of him. "Forget about her, Bulma. She's obviously really distraught right now."

"I don't want her in my son's life, and I don't want her in your life either."

Her heart clenched when he kissed her head and rubbed her back.

"I told you that I'm a faithful man." He assured her.

"That doesn't mean that she won't try to get you."

"It's never going to happen."

"I still don't want—"

"I was yours the moment I met you."

The moment he met her. Why did it feel like he meant longer than seven years ago?

The nervous flight of butterflies danced in her stomach as he touched the tip of her chin, his hard mouth descending over hers. She gave in, melting to his touch as she kissed him back.

The elevator doors opened, but she clung to his chest, still high on that fever-hot desire swirling inside her. Vegeta's lips staggered with a smile, and he jerked his head.

"Let's get out of here." Arm still wrapped around her waist, he led her out of the elevator and into the apartment.

"I'll fix Trunks something to eat and help him prepare for bed." Vegeta said to her.

"All right."

Vegeta then led Trunks into the kitchen to fix him a quick meal, and Bulma couldn't help but smile. It was almost as though they were a real couple. An actual family, and she can almost forget that only a few weeks ago that he stole her and Trunks from their old life to bring them here against their will. As well as that they were convinced they were meant to be together and also…he wanted another baby.

If that wasn't enough, Bulma had a jealous woman with an obsession over her son and husband. She wanted him, Bulma was certain of that, and she didn't trust the conniving bitch. There was something really off about Nasu.

Bulma sunk into the coach as details of the murder chased themselves in her head, and then suddenly two hands curled over her shoulders. She jumped at the sudden touch, Vegeta's thumbs digging into her shoulder blades.

"You need to relax."

"A man was murdered, I can I relax."

"I know. But you have to try."

She turned around to see Vegeta had changed into a T-shirt and jeans. It hung off his body, giving her a view of his chiseled chest. She was so used to seeing him in a suit that it was startling for a moment, but he wear them well. Too well. A smirk spread over his handsome face as he continued to massage her and forget why the hell she turned around to snap at him.

Right…murder.

"Why are you—wasn't he your friend?"

"Should I stop fucking my wife just because my friend is dead?" He shakes his head. "Life goes on, and we still have to add another life to our family."

 _We have to._

It was funny how that didn't make her nearly as upset as she thought it would. Vegeta's lips touched her head, and his hand slipped down the neck of her black dress. His hand bulged against the dress' fabric as he groped her breast.

"I haven't fucked you nearly as much as I should've."

Bulma grabbed his hand, stilling his movements. "Vegeta, I don't feel safe here."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to my family. I promise."

It was easy to let his hands soothe her and accept that he'd take care of everything, but she had never been one to sit back while someone else does the work. His hands slid from her neck, and then the couch sunk in with his weight. His heavy arm slid over her shoulders, and he pulled her into his chest just like he used to those few times they would stay at her apartment. He was still the same man she knew seven years ago, and he knew how to play her so well. Her body tingled with the movements of his fingers on her skin, rotating in a circular path.

"You keep saying that."

"I mean it."

"I don't know how you expect me to forget the fact that there's a dangerous man out there."

"The organization's filled with dangerous men." Vegeta said in a low voice.

'And I'm sitting next to one.' Bulma thought, silently.

For the first time she wondered about the life Vegeta led and what the Saiyan Organization expected of him. It wouldn't surprise her at all to find out that he murdered others before. He'd come to her sometimes with scars on his body and it didn't take a genius to figure out why. He had never given her excuses, so she made them for him in her head whenever he would come to her with a new bruise, swollen jaw and scarred hand.

"I don't expect you to forget anything."

"Trunks' safety is more important than any loyalty you have to this place."

"He isn't in any danger. Dammit, Bulma, don't you know me by now? I would never hurt him."

She believed him when he said it, but there was nothing he could say to convince her that the organization was a good place for their son.

"I don't know you. We spent a few months together and then you brought me here—"

"It was more than just a few months."

"No it wasn't."

Vegeta shook his head, looking a little disappointed. "You don't remember."

"Remember what?"

He didn't elaborate. Instead he replied with. "What do you want, woman? Do you want me to rip that ring off your finger and dump you and Trunks onto the streets? Because I'm never going to do that… _ever_. Do you understand? I'm never giving you up."

Bulma felt her heart, dimly beat somewhere inside her chest. There was a part of her that still wanted to look at him and tell him to fuck off, but she knew that would just put her two steps back. "I want Trunks with me, not with strangers looking after him. And I especially want Nasu far away from us."

Silence ticked on as he teased her with his fingers.

"I'll think about it." He said.

Bulma sits upright, too angry to speak, until he catches her arm and made her fall into his lap. His heat surrounded her as his arms snaked around her waist, trapping her there.

"I said I'd think about it."

"Don't expect me to be happy while you make your decision." She told him.

"I still don't trust you, Bulma. You spend most of your nights on this fucking couch than in my bed where you belong, but I know that's mostly out of pride."

"Fuck you, Vegeta."

His arms tighten around her waist. "If you want me to give in a little, I need to see you making a serious attempt at fitting in here. This is your home."

"I really don't like the idea of doing a trade-off to see my son." Bulma said. She was so angry that she was afraid that she would say something stupid, so she kept her mouth shut. Vegeta moved her so that she was facing him.

"Don't be angry with me. You're still the woman I want to have children with, doesn't that count for something?"

Vegeta pulled her close before she could answer. His forehead rested against hers, his hand kneading the back of her neck. Her anger floated away, much as she'd like to keep it close to her chest. She couldn't do it. Not when he was touching her this way.

Bulma felt like she was crawling through a desert all the time she spent away from him. She had did her best and told herself they were better off without him, but it was hard. There wasn't a day she didn't miss having her hands on his rock-hard chest, or buried in his black flamed hair. She did it now, giving into the comfort that his body gave her. She searched for his mouth and felt electricity in the air shared between their lips before she kissed him. Vegeta deepened the kiss, grinding his fingers in her cerulean hair. She couldn't ever just have one kiss with him, especially when his tongue danced with hers. His hands squeezed her waist and then slid under her thighs. Suddenly, he stood up, holding her in his arms as he broke away from the kiss, his heavy footsteps crashing through the apartment.

The door to the bedroom slammed the wall as he kicked it open, and then she braced herself for what was about to happen, once they entered the room. However, instead of Vegeta ripping off her clothes and starting to have his naughty, filthy way with her, he gently placed her on the bed, leaned over and started to remove her article of clothing. When Bulma tried to reach out and touch him, he gently grabbed her hands and placed them above her head on the pillow and continued with his task.

"What are you doing?" Bulma asked.

"Trying to remove your clothes, what else?" Once he removed her clothes, leaving her only in her bra and panties, he got up from the bed to remove his own clothes until he was in a pair of boxers. He moved back to the bed and laid on the opposite side of Bulma, pulling her close to his chest.

"This is it?" Bulma asked, confused.

"Were you expecting something else?" Vegeta asked her.

Honestly, yea. She was expecting they were about to fuck, like they've been doing almost every night, but instead he placed her on the bed, removed her clothes and now they were just cuddled up.

"As much as I would love to fuck you until you're coming on my dick and screaming my name, tonight is just not the night after our discussion."

"If that's the case, shouldn't I be back in the living room?"

"No. Like I told you before, you belong right here, in my bed, not on the fucking couch." He pulled her even tighter, nuzzling her neck before placing a kiss there.

Bulma was beyond shocked. So far her time here in this place had only been about Vegeta trying to control and instill the idea of having another child with her, and with the constant irritation of Nasu. This was the only time where she actually felt calm and relaxed. Being held in Vegeta's embrace, she felt secure and safe for the first time being here.

Maybe Vegeta was right. Maybe all she had to do was trust him and everything would work out. However, right now, it was best to just enjoy the moment being in her husband's arms. And that's what she did as she fell asleep, wrapped in his arms.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Well I hope you all enjoyed this chapter after the long wait. Since I know some of you have actually read this book this fic is taken and based on, there was a sex scene in the story. However, I decided to remove it, since the moment didn't need to have Bulma and Vegeta getting hot and heavy after what occurred in this chapter. So hopefully, he didn't seem so OOC in the last bit. So in the next chapter, some more drama is going to go down within the organization, so be on the look-out for the next chapter, and until next time!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

Vegeta looked up from his plate of cooked egg whites to frown at his wife as she picked up her purse. Bulma grabbed the neon pink flier and flashed it in front of his face. His lips mouthed the words, 'Women's Club: Real Women. Real Issues.'

"Sounds…fun." He says bracingly.

"It sounds stupid. What, are we supposed to start a fundraiser for Planned Parenthood? A bake sale for the orphans? Come on."

"Don't go if you don't want to."

She didn't. However, she knew for sure Nasu didn't think she'll go. This type of this totally wasn't Bulma's thing. The only reason she was going was because Vegeta wanted her to become more involved, and according her my research, Nasu was the president and founder of Women's Club, Babysitting Society, Ladies Social Club, and the Saiyans Wine Club. She practically had a hierarchy on all the clubs in the fucking organization, and Bulma didn't trust her.

But you know the saying, keep your enemies close. And Bulma was certainly going to do just that.

"I don't want to go. I have to go. You want me more involved, remember?"

Vegeta nodded grudgingly, eyeing the pink flier suspiciously. "You're taking Trunks with you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I need to do some business."

"What kind of business?"

He looked at her over his cup of coffee. "You don't want to know."

"Don't tell me what I don't want to know."

"I've got to go to a shareholder meeting of a major pharmaceutical company and persuade the board members to give us a share."

"Persuade?"

He moves his head and mimes cracking his fist against someone's skull. "You know."

"Oh God." Bulma groaned.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it. You just go to your women's group meeting and try to have a good time."

He kissed the top of her head and patted her on the shoulder as though she was some kind of pet, as though she wasn't an equal. Bulma didn't know whether he was doing it on purpose, but she caught his wrist and he wheeled around with the coffee cup in his hand.

"Are there any updates on Dorian?"

"He's still dead."

"Come on. Stop messing around."

Vegeta sighed. "I can't talk about it, Bulma. Believe me, I'm worried. There was nothing on the tapes. Dorian left his room at five p.m., then returned later and entered his room at seven thirty and Nasu followed a half-hour later. No one else went inside."

"Isn't it possible that someone—I don't know—replaced the surveillance video?"

"No."

"So whoever killed him was in there already? Why didn't anyone see him escape?"

"I don't know."

Bulma bit her lip as he put down his cup, sighing. "Just go to the meeting and stay there with Trunks until I come by. It'll be fine. Whoever did this will be caught."

"Fine."

Vegeta ruffled Trunks' hair before giving him the rundown of being a good kid and looking after his mother. She couldn't help but think while she watched them together that she was completely wrong about Vegeta. He's been a wonderful dad, far better than she ever thought he was capable, and he loved his son.

"C'mon Trunks, let's go." Bulma said, making her way to the door, with Trunks right behind her. "I'll see you soon." She said, towards Vegeta.

"All right. Bye, babe."

He smiles at her and she had a hard time fighting back the flutter of warmth it brought him. Bulma was just glad that Trunks was hers for the morning. Usually, she had to hand him over to Vegeta, who brought him to daycare.

* * *

'Yay for Women's Club.' Bulma thought sourly.

It was on the same floor as the daycare center behind a door with the same nauseating pink flier taped to the surface. A guard stationed at the door opened it for her, revealing a medium sized room with cheap carpet, all the desks and chairs pushed to one side of the room to make room for a closed circle of middle-aged women. Bulma stood at the door for a few seconds, watching them ignore her presence. She felt like she'd stumbled upon what must be the female equivalent of an old boys' club. Nasu was there, dressed in all black for mourning, looking as immaculate as ever. It had been a couple weeks since her husband's death, and she smiled in a brave sort of way, dabbing intermittently at her eyes.

"Goten!" Trunks exclaimed, making his over to a young boy with black spiky hair in the corner playing.

"Trunks!" Said boy said excitedly, waving his hand as they both sat down and began playing.

The boys little exclamation caused the women to finally turn around to look at Bulma. Nasu pursed her lips in a slight frown as Bulma walked closer, her gaze lingering on Trunks.

Several of the women smiled at Bulma as she walked inside. They opened up their circle, which almost encompassed the entire room. Some of them raised their hands in greeting. Seeing a familiar face, Bulma sat down next to the woman with the black hair pulled up in a bun.

"Hi, Bulma, it's good to see you here." The woman said.

"You too, ah…"

"Oh, sorry! I don't think we introduced ourselves last night at the dinner party." She extended her hand. "I'm Chi-Chi, Goku's wife, and that little cutie's mother playing with your son."

Bulma extended her own hand and shook Chi-Chi's. "Nice to meet you Chi-Chi."

It had been so long that she had a real conversation with another person besides Vegeta and her son that she was actually excited to meet people. "You know I haven't been here for very long."

"Oh, I know. Everyone here already knows who you are."

"They do?"

Chi-Chi laughed. "It's a little weird isn't it? Word spreads pretty fast around here. I mean, we're a pretty close-knit community so everyone always gets a little excited when there's a new member."

"And you guys are free to leave whenever you want?"

"Of course. If you grow up here, they give you until you're eighteen to decide what you want to do. Everyone has to help out, or you're sent on your way. It wasn't always like that, though. Vegeta made a lot of changes. Along with my husband, Goku"

"And people like the changes, right?"

Chi-Chi brightened. "Yeah. What they're doing are great. Things were pretty rocky after the attack—"

She stops abruptly in the middle of her sentence, looking pale. Then Bulma realizes how quiet it was in the room. They must've been the only two voices talking with everyone listening in.

The pearls at Nasu's neck swing as she leans forward. "Hello, Bulma. We're very glad you decided to join us."

Bulma was suspicious of the warmth in her voice. "Thanks."

"In the future, though, if I could ask you to please be on time, that'd be great."

"Right," Bulma said, as she read the clock across the room. Nine o' clock sharp. "Sorry."

"We also ask members to keep personal conversations at a minimum. This is not social hour, it's more of a discussion forum."

Bulma's face stretches into a smile. If Nasu was looking to embarrass her, the bitch was going the wrong route. Like Bulma gave two fucks about what any of the girls in that room thought of her.

Chi-Chi rolled her eyes as Nasu went through the minutes of the last meeting.

"We all saw how she took your son out of your arms at the funeral. It was horrible." Chi-Chi whispered to Bulma.

"Right?" She leaned in, whispering back. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"I don't know. I think she's taking the death of her husband really hard."

"Yeah, maybe."

Although Bulma really doubt tackling issues like whether they would have enough vol-au-vents at the next charity ball is taking one's husband's death really hard. Most of the women in the circle look just as bored as she did, and Bulma was starting to notice a clique of women who smiled whenever Nasu talked, and offer their own suggestions when she comes up with an idea.

A redheaded woman with a bob haircut raised her hand.

"Yes, Mame?"

Mame's wavering voice speaks out. "I wanted to discuss security in light of…everything that's happened."

A hush filled the room as every head swung around to stare at Mame. Her face going slightly pink. "I'm just wondering if we should be doing more. I'm sorry for bringing it up, but I'd rather talk about what happened."

Nearly the whole circle murmured in agreement and even the clique surrounding Nasu seemed to think that she had a fair point. Mame seemed to shrink in her seat under Nasu's poisonous glare.

"I don't know what to tell you. My husband was murdered in my home."

"Yeah, I know, but what happened? Some of us haven't heard the full story."

Bulma winced.

"I'm sorry, did you want a detailed report?" Nasu retorted.

"No, I just—"

"Do you want the gory details, is that it?"

Jesus. All the poor woman asked was: What happened, and yet the whole room looked at her as though blaming her for goading Nasu into tears.

Mame's face was flaming red. "No."

"Then I don't understand your question. If you read the report, you know what happened."

"I just wanted to know if there are any updates you can share."

"There are no suspects," Nasu says icily. "The man or woman who did this is walking among us, unchecked."

"So you think it might've been a woman?"

"It could've been anyone!" Nasu explodes, tearing up immediately. One of the girls surrounding her offers her a tissue, which she rejects, choosing instead to gaze solemnly at the circle of women. "I could tell you to keep vigilant, lock your doors, and don't walk the halls alone, but I just don't think that's enough."

A worried rush of whispers follows the end of her words. They lean into each other and talk, glancing at Nasu as silent tears slip down her face. It looks like they were actually looking at her for comfort.

"That's why I asked what we should do." Mame said.

"Be on the lookout." Someone chimed in.

"My guess is that whoever did this was new to the syndicate. They don't belong here. Why else would they d—do that to D—Dorian?"

An unpleasant feeling starts to crawl over Bulma's skin. New to the syndicate? Check. Doesn't belong here? Check.

"Can we at least rule out that it was a woman? I mean, I find it really hard to believe that a woman could have the strength to overpower him."

The suggestion seems to infuriate Nasu. "You all know that Dorian was in poor health. He was always a strong man, but lately…My point is that it would've been easy for a woman to take a knife and stab him in the chest!"

Mame frowns. "Why would anyone do that?"

"I don't know! Why does any woman m—murder somebody else's husband? Jealousy o—or spite!"

It's alarming to hear the fury burst from Nasu's mouth, but no one seems to think her theory is at all likely. He was a sixty-year-old man, and while Bulma was sure he was very nice, she didn't see him triggering homicidal urges. She turned it over in her head, wondering if there really are women crazy enough to lie in wait in someone's room and stab someone else's husband to death out of spite.

'Yeah, I really doubt it.' Bulma thought. The murder had to have been for political reasons, whatever the fuck those might've been. Why was he stabbed so many times, though? That suggests a crime of passion, not politics.

"I think whoever did it was very angry with him." Bulma said.

There's a flurry of movement as everyone turns around to look at Bulma. Nasu snorts, tossing back her hair to fix her with a haughty stare.

Fuck, she shouldn't have said anything.

"How would you know?"

Her skin burns, but she looks back at Nasu, determined. "Look at how many times he was stabbed. The murderer, whoever he was, kept stabbing him even after he was dead."

"God." Chi-Chi said in a low voice next to Bulma.

"So you agree," Nasu says in a louder voice. "My husband was killed out of some kind of vindictiveness."

Bulma looked calmly into her glazed eyes. "That's what it looks like."

"Who hated Dorian?" Someone else chimed in.

"Everyone loved him."

"Someone had a problem with him."

They all sounded like Vegeta, refusing to accept that the organization's most well liked man might've had a few enemies.

"You seem to know a lot about the subject." Nasu said.

Bulma certainly didn't like her tone. "I read a lot."

Nasu turned her suspicious gaze to the rest of them. "It's weird, isn't it? We haven't had an incident in months, and then you join us out of nowhere—"

"—I was taken from my home by my husband. I didn't join anything."

The frown lines in her forehead deepen. "All the more reason for you to strike out at someone."

Bulma's heart throbs dully in her chest as a dozen faces turn toward her. "Strike out? Wait, are you saying that I had something to do with this?"

Nasu points her finger at her. "You said that, not me."

"How can you even think—I was at dinner with a few others in Chi-Chi's suite!"

"It's true." Chi-Chi spoke up. "I can certainly vouch that she was in my suite the time that Dorian was killed."

"That doesn't matter. She could've still been involved somehow," Nasu said in rapid-fire. "You called me a crazy bitch at my husband's funeral."

Scandalized looks flash at Bulma, and she felt her face getting hot. "You yanked my son out of my arms!"

But Nasu kept going, ignoring her comment. "And before that there was the incident at the daycare. Yeah, I remember that. You didn't want me taking care of your son even though I'd been nothing but nice to you!"

"Are you serious right now? You were goading me." Bulma looked at their hostile faces, incredulous. "She called me a cunt!"

"What's a cunt mom?" Goten asked innocently in the corner.

"Nothing Goten!" Chi-Chi shouted, going over to the two boys and then escorting them further inside the room so they couldn't hear any further conversation.

Nasu utters an irritatingly high, feminine gasp. "How can you use that language in front of your son?"

Bulma's jaw dropped. This coming from the woman who called her a fucktoy and a cunt, all within hearing distance of Trunks.

She was manipulative.

She was fucking evil.

Then Nasu cried, and it was not the beautiful weeping they all saw at the funeral. It was a loud, obnoxious ugly cry that made Bulma wince. A few of the women sitting around her patted her back as she doubled over, looking at her with venom.

"She yanked my son from my arms. I can't believe you people are defending her." Bulma said.

"I just wanted to h-hold him. My husband had just d-died. I don't have any children of my own."

And that was it. The sympathetic look thrown Bulma's way withered and died as Nasu sobbed over her tragic, childless existence. Bulma was the cold-hearted bitch who wouldn't even let the grieving widow hold a young child.

Bravo Nasu. Bravo.

A wavering voice speaks up. "Maybe you should leave."

The entire room stared at Bulma, more than a few looking at her with disgust. Heat slowly rising up her neck.

"I agree. You're bringing a really negative energy into the room." The woman to Nasu's left said.

"She's the one who attacked me!" Bulma exclaimed.

Nasu sat up, swallowing, mastering herself to look her in the eye. "I-I don't think it's a good idea if she comes too anymore meetings."

"Yeah."

"Probably for the best." Another woman agreed.

It felt like middle school all over again for Bulma. Being picked last in gym class, hostile girls bumping into her shoulder in the hallways.

"So I guess I'm banned from every single club in the organization since you run all of them."

"Maybe in a few months we'll reevaluate your membership if your behavior improves." The same woman says.

'This is bullshit!' Bulma wanted to scream at them, but she knew that whatever she said would reinforce Nasu's opinion of her in their heads, and she couldn't afford to have more people hating her guts right now. Bulma's only ally in this place was her husband, and he didn't even trust her, really.

Fuck this.

She turned around, heading toward Trunks to collect him then leave.

"Excuse me. Where do you think you're going?"

The haughty tone returned to Nasu's voice.

"I'm going to take Trunks and leaving."

"Yes, you're leaving, but not with that boy."

Oh fucking hell no!

If only horns would pop out of her skull right now, it would complete the image of her literally being Satan. That boy. As if he wasn't Bulma's, as if she wasn't in labor for eight hours giving birth to him.

"He's my son."

"He's Vegeta's son, and Vegeta says that you're not to wander around with Trunks. Sorry, but those are the rules."

Bulma was not going to cry here in front of all these strangers. She just was not going to. She could hear a harsh, barely audible whisper: "Her own husband doesn't trust her. Why should we?"

She stood there, trembling as Chi-Chi come forward and approached Bulma, her expression friendly.

"I'll take him." Chi-Chi said. "Don't worry, I'll drop him off at the daycare and look after him until Vegeta comes and picks him up."

Tears slide down Bulma's face as she reluctantly made her way to the door, with Nasu's eyes gleaming with savage triumph.

* * *

Bulma never wished anyone dead in her whole life, but she had a moment while she was standing outside the door, listening to their high voices return to talking about vol-au-vents where she saw Nasu's body inside that coffin instead of Dorian's.

And she smiled.

It made her sick to think that she was the kind of person who wished ill on somebody. Before this, Bulma would've never considered doing anything like this, but that was before she felt that Nasu was a threat, but no one would ever believe that until she found proof. Full, irrevocable proof that Nasu was out to get her. Bulma had known women like Nasu her whole life, and there was always a nasty background. Nasu was a master manipulator, at the head of every fucking social club in the organization. She'll make it impossible for Bulma to ever carve out a decent life there at all because she was married to the man she wanted to fuck.

Bulma descended the stairwell to the floor where her and Vegeta's apartment was, her hands shaking with rage. There had to be something she could do. Goddamn it, she was too old for this high-school bullshit! She stopped in front of the door, her arm already halfway raised to the keycard.

"What are you going to do? Wait for Vegeta to come home and cry at him again?" Bulma murmured. She stomped away from the door, swearing loudly.

Faceless doors passed her as she walked down the hallway, and she had no idea what she was searching for. Then Bulma saw the yellow tape attached to Nasu's suite and a light bulb burst in her head.

The scene of the crime. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to poke around?

She glanced down the hall, mindful of the sign warning people not to enter, that tampering with evidence will be prosecuted with the highest law applicable. The cold shock of the metallic doorknob bit into her wet palm as she grasped it and turned.

A huge, dark brown stain stretches in front of her, the stench foul. A chill ran up her spine as Bulma looked at the spot where Dorian died. It disgusted her that they left his blood to rot in the ruined carpet. She stumbled inside, avoiding the edge of the stain, and she took a look around. Aside from an overturned table, the place looked pretty normal. Using her sleeve, she opened the kitchen drawers, slamming them shut almost immediately. What did she expect to find? The murder weapon?

'No, I'm just snooping.' Bulma though.

She tiptoed around the blood, trying not to imagine Dorian's lifeless corpse lying there, slowly bleeding into the floorboards, and she picked at things. There were several magazines sprawled next to the overturned table. Family Home. Parents. Babytalk. Of course, Vegeta had mentioned Nasu's obsession with having children, that everyone suspected she was barren. Bulma wondered what that would mean in a place like this, where people were heavily encouraged to have children. Hell, Vegeta had a fascination with it the way he went at her body.

There was nothing else in the living room that caught her interest, so she moved on, opening a door to the bathroom that looked normal. Not a single drop of blood. Bulma's head pounded as she moved to the next door, a cold sweat breaking over her skin. She pushed the second door open to a shockingly bright blue room. Bulma gasped as she stared at what looked like a fully stocked nursery. There was a crib, a changing table, toys, and a rocking chair. She recognized the crib from a model she was looking at several years ago before Trunks was born. There was something lying prone in the crib, something that looked horrifying like an infant child.

She stood there paralyzed for a second, overcome with waves of crippling anxiety. Bulma forced herself to take a step, and then another. The hair on the baby's head looked like a normal infants. She reached down and touched it, feeling the soft down of a newborn infant. Her hand curled around the shoulder, which felt too hard to be normal, and she flipped the body around.

A perfect replicate of a newborn infant baby stared up at her, its cheeks puffed out. Bulma stroked them with a finger, her heart slamming into her chest. It was soft as human skin, and the eyes, the eyes looked just like real human ones. Indistinguishable from hers. She was on the verge of screaming bloody murder. She couldn't take the creepy room and the extremely lifelike baby sitting in the crib like a forgotten toy, except that it was clearly doted on. Adored. The evidence of a broken mind.

Bulma heard a noise, and she whirled around, knocking a stack of something off the whitewashed table next to her. Glossy photographs spilled over the floor all around her feet.

"Shit!" She bent down to pick them up, and froze.

Trunks' face stared up at me. She grabbed one of the photographs, and then another. Trunks smiling. Trunks sleeping on a mat. There were dozens of pictures of him. There were even some pictures of him when he was a baby, which oddly looked familiar.

"She took some of these pictures from my album." Bulma said, shockingly. It was no mistaking it. Some of these baby pictures of Trunks from those she took of herself. Had Nasu snuck into her suite when her and Vegeta were out and stole some of Trunks' baby pictures?

What really made Bulma loose it was when she found a photo of Trunks when he was baby and he was nestled in Violet's arms. She was looking down at him lovingly like any mother would their child.

The hell? She had photo shopped the photo and replaced Bulma's face with hers. Bulma looked at another picture and saw that it was Trunks seated on Nasu's lap with a smile on his face and Nasu with her arms wrapped around him in a giant hug. She beamed at the camera, so happy that there were tears in her eyes. She flipped the photo around, and in glittery, pink cursive it said: _My son_.

"What the fuck?"

There was no air in the room. She couldn't breathe.

The crazy bitch, Nasu had pictures of Trunks—dozens of pictures.

Bulma looked around. Was the room prepared for him? Or had Nasu been waiting and waiting for years, trying to have a baby, fucking around to try to get herself knocked up while she slipped more into madness? And Dorian—Dorian must've known all about his wife's obsession. The fucking baby doll. Bulma could just imagine Nasu holding it to her breast, rocking it to sleep, singing to it, even.

And now she thought she could steal her son.

No. Never.

Bulma's eyes burned. Oh God, she left him with her. She made her leave him behind. Trembling, she snatched a few of the pictures from the floor, shoving the photo shopped picture and the one that said _my son_ in her pocket, as she busted out of the freakish nursery. Bulma was making too much noise, but she don't care. Every instinct told her to get the fuck out and find her husband. Find Vegeta before Nasu turned him into a living doll.

She tripped over the tape blocking the doorframe, slamming her knee into the carpet with the bloodstain. Fuck. FUCK! She let out a high-pitched sob of pure terror and then she got the fuck on her feet and she ran out of there. Bulma's feet skidded as she found the door of their apartment, and she raised her fists banging on the door for thirty seconds, but wasn't home. The hallway spun as she staggered forward as though drunk, and then finally she burst into the cool stairwell. Bulma's feet slipped on something, and her body flew out from under hr. The stairs dug into her back as she slid down a flight. Wetness pressed into her back, and she turn around, clutching her bruised bottom. There was a streak of blood spilling down the stairs.

That couldn't be good.

Did she hurt herself that badly? Bulma's back hurt like a bitch, and she might've bruised her tailbone, but she didn't feel hurt. Jesus, where did all that blood come from?

Drip.

A drop of something fell. She heard it magnified in the stairwell. She got up to her feet, and Bulma clutched the railing, looking down.

Nothing. Weird.

Drip.

Something warm hit her head and trailed down her scalp. Bulma looked up at a pair of hanging shoes and vomit immediately rose in her throat. Hanging shoes attached to legs and a torso, and a man's purple head with a noose tied firmly around his neck. The corpse swayed slightly, and another drop of blood smacks her forehead.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Alright guys, I decided to give you another update, since I had you waiting for the last chapter. Things are really heating up in this story now, huh? Until next time guys! ^_^


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, its characters or 'His Secret Baby' by Vanessa Waltz, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Seven years ago Bulma met Vegeta. She knew he was dangerous, but his devilish smile pulled her into his lap and straight into his bed. He was pure sin, good for one night of fun, and nothing else. For one night, she forgot about his dangerous side. But then she got pregnant. And with who he was and his line of work, she wasn't going to raise her son with him. So she ran away and he never knew about the baby. Now he's found them and he wants his family back. A bigger family... and another baby.

* * *

It was happening again.

Saiyans milled around the ballroom Vegeta used for announcements. He along with the counsel used to call it the throne room until Vegeta ordered tables and chairs to fill the giant, empty space. He even took out the old table and replaced it with a new one, as if the introduction of a hundred tables and chairs could mask the fact dozens of people were killed in this room. The bodies piled high against the wall. It took days to remove them all.

Now it was happening again. The fucking bastards he considered his comrades murdered Inari. He was like some of the members on the counsel. Used to be on top, and then his family was slaughtered. Dorian—same fucking deal. Two guys sitting next to him complained about being dragged out of bed, and Vegeta wanted to snap their necks.

"I came as fast as I could." Goku said, coming up to Vegeta. "What's going on? What happened?"

"It's Inari. He was found hanging in the stairwell."

"What?" Goku gasped in shocked. "This isn't good. It's the second murder in only a few weeks."

"No shit Kakarot." Vegeta replied, sarcastically. "But Inari was a piece of shit who lost his position in the Counsel years ago. It's most likely he hung himself because of that."

"I doubt it Vegeta. This looks pretty shady to me." Goku told him.

"Either way, I have to try and calm the Saiyans down, and ease them of what has happened in the few weeks."

The room suddenly went quiet as Vegeta walked onto the stage, flanked by heavily armed guards. He stood behind the podium and grabbed the microphone, which shrieked into life. He looked at the crowd for a few seconds, his face solemn.

"I've gathered you all here today because Inari Lee was found murdered in the east-wing stairwell. We do not yet know if this was premeditated. We do not have any suspects. I am certain that the murders are connected and that the person who did this is standing in this room."

Vegeta's eyes looked around the room, and he saw indifference. No one gave a flying fuck about Inari or Dorian. To them, they had it coming. And they'll likely come after him next.

"This senseless violence must stop. Today I stand before you, asking your help to find who did this. We can't thrive if we live in fear in our own homes. Two years ago, the Saiyan Organization went through the greatest upheaval we have ever known. It hasn't been easy, but I know we can get through this stronger than ever if we show solidarity with one another. Stand up for your comrades. We need to work together to build a better future for the Saiyans, and we can't do that if we're not all on the same side. And I'd also like to speak to the man who murdered Inari and Dorian." He paused for a moment. "You're a fucking coward. You're weak. I'm not going to plead you to stop, only tell you what I'll do with you when I find you. There will be no mercy. Only death."

Vegeta didn't offer a smile. His eyes roved over the audience with an intensity that stroked the room with silence as though they've been struck dumb, and then he left the podium, disappearing to the side. There was no clapping.

A booming laugh rung out somewhere, and Vegeta twisted his body around.

Who the fuck laughed?

A few more voices chimed in, and then the room dissolved into conversation. Vegeta made his way toward the double doors and eyes followed him.

Lions and gazelles.

Some fucking speech he gave. Too bad it fell on mostly deaf ears.

One crisis at a time.

Vegeta's shoulder hit the double doors. They swung open, and he retreated into the privacy of the hall, his hand halfway in his pocket. He grabbed the folded photographs and glanced at them again, his stomach rumbling uncomfortably as he stared at Nasu beaming at the camera, her arms around Trunks and the photo shopped one of her looking down at him when he was just a baby. He flipped them both over and read the pink words again: _My son_. A chill ran down his back.

One crisis at a fucking time.

He wondered where Nasu was. She said she'd meet him in the hall after the meeting in a few minutes, but she wasn't there yet. Vegeta looked over the heads of the people exiting the ballroom, but he still didn't see her.

"Hey, you."

Jesus! She was standing right behind him.

Vegeta turned around. She was dressed in a red silk shirt that flowed like a breeze and a black skirt that just brushed the tops of her knees. Heels. Makeup. Her hair brushed back until it shined. She was pink in the face, and the color darkened the longer he looked at her.

"Hi."

She sucked in her lip. "Something wrong?"

"Let's go somewhere private."

"Okay." She gave him a shy smile as he opened the door to a small but thankfully empty conference room.

"Have a seat." Vegeta dragged a chair out for her, and she sat down.

The walk around the table across from her felt like a mile long. He was still holding on to a feeble hope that this might be a misunderstanding, but there was just no defense against a stack full of pictures of his son in a nursery for a child she never had. Never will have.

Nasu smiled, waiting.

Sighing, he pulled the photographs from his pocket and slid them over the table toward her.

"What's this?" She asks, innocently.

"You tell me."

She picks them up daintily, smiling faintly at the picture.

"My wife found this in your nursery."

Her frown lines deepened. "She went through my things?"

"She was concerned by your behavior. Flip that one over."

Puzzled, she flips said photograph around and read the pink cursive. "That's—I didn't write that."

"Don't lie to me, Nasu."

She paled at the edge in his words, her voice rising in defense. "I'm not lying! I didn't write this!"

She was a fantastic actress. She certainly had the nuances down—the feigned surprise, outrage at being snooped on. However, Vegeta still wasn't buying it.

"Really? Then explain why this photo," He picked up the one that was photo shopped. "Has your face replaced with my wife's? And while we're at it, why the hell are there a stack of photos of my son in your apartment?"

She stood up, flinging the photograph she held at him. "She shouldn't have gone through—those were my private—she had no right!"

"That's funny, because I don't recall giving you permission to take pictures of my son."

"I didn't think you'd mind!"

"Why the hell did you write that?"

"Write what?"

Vegeta slammed his fist onto the table, and she jumped, her hand flying to her chest. "This! 'My son.' What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Bulma wrote that, not me!"

He sat back in his chair, disgusted. She looked away from him, her eyes quickly filling with tears.

Fuck.

"Don't you understand what she's doing? She's trying to turn you against me."

Frankly, Vegeta couldn't give a fuck what Bulma's motives were. She was his wife and his priority. "My wife is just trying to protect her son. I understand that. I, however, don't understand this."

He wasn't the kind of guy who got spooked easily, but when Bulma told him about that room with the doll and the pictures, he felt icy fingers crawling up his back.

"I don't want you around my son anymore." Vegeta told her.

Nasu's high-pitched scream stabbed him right in the ears. A chair knocked over as she staggered backward, looking at him as though he had slid a knife in her chest.

Fucking ridiculous.

"No, please don't! Please don't take him from me—I-I can't!"

Because Vegeta was so desperate to make her shut up, he stood up, grabbing her shoulders. "Stop crying. Please stop fucking crying."

"I c-can't!"

Her body launched into his, her arms wrapping around his waist. Vegeta stiffened as she laid her head on his shoulder, trying to touch her as little as possible. Bulma told him Nasu had a thing for him, and he never really believed it until now.

She buried her face in his neck, tightening her grip around his waist. He couldn't take it anymore. He pried her hands off his body and guided her toward the seat, ignoring the hurt on her face. Vegeta sat down next to her, his head in his hands. This was the last thing—the very last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

"How would you like if someone ripped Trunks out of your life?"

Vegeta raised his head from his hands, that uneasy feeling squirming in his gut. Then he touched Nasu's chin, so that her watery gaze focused on his. "He's not your son."

Her face crumpled again and then hardened. "Yes he is."

"…What the fuck did you just say?"

"He's my son." She repeated, not a trace of amusement on her face.

Vegeta let her go, disgusted. He didn't have time for games. The chair screeched as he ripped it back, and Nasu stood up with him.

"I don't understand why you keep pushing me away. I'm Trunks' mother. Me and you belong together!" She cried.

He looked at her and found he couldn't muster the anger. She pulled all the stops to try and impress him. He never knew that behind all that makeup and her cloying sweetness was a broken person—a delusional person.

"Bulma was right. You're fucking insane." Vegeta walked around her, until she grabbed his arm, sobbing.

"She's not good enough for you! She doesn't even want to be here. You know I'm right."

"One more word about my wife, and I'll give you a slap to wear to your next Saiyan function."

She grabbed his hand and placed it over her breast. Vegeta shoved her, reacting instantly. The room seemed to spin as Nasu stumbled back on her high heels. She caught herself on a chair, leaning over and bawling. Waves of shock ran through him as he watched her cry. This was the woman admired by so many men, the darling of the Saiyan organization.

"I'm married."

"I know."

"You committed a great sin. You know the rules." Vegeta said, lowly.

She cried even harder.

"Out of respect for your husband, I won't turn you in."

"Vegeta, please!"

"Stay the fuck away from my son. You're not to go near him, do you understand? Leave my wife alone. Just leave us alone."

"Don't leave me. Please, God, don't leave me!"

Vegeta left the room, the wall shaking when he slammed the door behind him. He couldn't deal with that crazy woman on top of everything else. He should've gone to Kakarot, but he wanted his wife. He wanted her mouth, her lips and he wanted his son with him, where he belonged.

Driving thoughts of Nasu out of his head, Vegeta headed toward the daycare center. The guards stepped aside, recognizing him as he entered the daycare full of boisterous children. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he walked past a little girl sitting next to a boy, playing with LEGOs.

Then he remembered her—Bulma—in the park. He paused for a moment, remembering the sweet little cerulean haired girl and how she transformed into the beautiful woman who was his wife today. Just thinking about his wife hit him hard in the chest. Just like it did when he was a young boy. He believed he fell in love with her the moment she took his hand in the park that day.

" _Come play with us!"_

He forgot about the way his heart used to squeeze and release every time she wrapped her arms around him. Even seven years ago when they were dating, every moment spent with her was magnificent. It wasn't just the sex between them either, oh no, that of course was divine. But the chemistry and connection he felt with her was something that he never imagined could happen to anyone.

"I'm here to pick up my son." Vegeta said to one of the attendees at the center.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Ouiji, Mrs. Son actually took him back to your suite an hour ago."

Vegeta nodded, then made his way out the door to his suite.

* * *

Once Vegeta entered his suite, he saw Bulma sprawled on the sofa, reading a book in her lap. Hearing the door, Bulma turned around as he stepped through the door. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

"Hey." She said, simply.

"Hey." He replied. "Where's Trunks?"

"He's in his room watching a movie."

"Good. Because we need to talk." He said, taking a seat on the lounge chair across from her.

"Really? About what?" Bulma asked, still smiling.

"You were right."

Her smile widened. "What? I'm sorry, I must've heard wrong. Did you say I was right?"

Sighing, Vegeta stood up, moved her legs to the floor so he could sit next to her. He then closed the distance between them and brushed back the hair from her face. "You were right. About everything."

The smugness on her face should've been a punishable offense. "It's about fucking time you believed me."

"I'm sorry. I feel like an asshole. You were warning me about her this whole time. Honest to God, I didn't see it."

Putting her book down, she touched his face. "I know."

"You were right, and I was wrong. You'll never have to leave him there again, I promise."

"I'm not going to thank you."

"I know."

But she sat up and leaned her head on his shoulder and slid her hand in his all the same. They sat there, her with his head on his shoulder and him leaning his head against hers, the both of them enjoying the silence. Vegeta's brain was still fried from everything that happened, but it was a comfort to feel the gentle grip of his wife's hand enveloped in his.

"Tell me what happened." Bulma said.

The last thing Vegeta wanted to do was rehash that clusterfuck to his wife. "You were right. What more do you want me to say?"

"How did you find out I was right?"

His mouth suddenly going dry, he stood up and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and when he closed the door, Bulma was standing in front of him. His fingers whitened around the hard edges as his heart jumped. She watched him fill the glass with water from the sink and gulp it down.

"Stop stalling, Vegeta." Bulma said, crossing her arms over her chest.

He put down the glass on the counter. "She's out of her mind, Bulma."

"You're just making things worse by evading the question. What. Happened?"

"…She took my hand and put it on her breasts."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "She _what_?" Bulma's arms were locked so firmly against her chest that Vegeta thought he'd need a crowbar to loosen them.

"Woman, she's sick. It's not worth getting upset over."

"I'm going to fucking kill her." Bulma gritted out. And she marched toward the door presumably to do just that.

Laughing, Vegeta seized her arm. She spun around, looking furious. "I'm glad you think this is a big fucking joke, Vegeta! What if a man grabbed my breasts?"

'I'd fucking kill him.' But instead, he replied. "This is different."

"How the hell is it different?"

"She's sick, Bulma. She deserves to be committed, not beaten."

Bulma looked like she didn't give a fuck. To tell the truth, he doubt he'd be able to keep his fists off any man who dare to touch his wife, no matter what his mental state was.

Vegeta stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, but she slapped it away. "I can't get over how sexy you look when you're pissed off."

Her mouth trembled as though on the verge of letting out a stream of insults. Everything about her screamed, 'Don't fucking touch me.'

And that's why he had to touch her.

He grabbed her shoulder, and she tried to twist out of his reach, so he grabbed her waist and yanked her into his body.

"Vegeta, stop it!"

She said stop, but her body softened against his. Vegeta's skin tingled when she laid her palm flat on his chest. The woman was driving him mad with lust, and he couldn't keep his hands away when she was that furious over another woman putting the moves on him. There was no chance in hell he'd ever take the bait, but it still made him happy to see how much she cared.

"The jealousy is hot but completely unnecessary."

"As if I'd be jealous of that psycho bitch."

"Good, because you have no reason to be." Vegeta then slid his hands down the waistband of her jeans, watching her eyes widen as he cupped her mound, his finger massaging her precious pearl.

"I'm only interested in this." He emphasized, putting a bit more pressure on her nub. And for the first time in his life, he mean the words he said to her. His veins rushed with heat as his cock started to throb. "Ever since we've met, I've only wanted you."

"Even when we were apart, you never—?"

"Never."

"Why not?"

"Because we were married. It's a sacred vow. Believe it or not, that means something to me."

"I thought you would find someone else. You have to admit the whole playboy act is a bit jarring."

Vegeta shrugged, still playing with her precious pearl. "I had my fun, but when I met you I knew it was time to settle down."

"What was it about me?" Bulma gasped.

She was the girl in the park. Every time she held his hand, he couldn't speak. His father and brother used to tease of him afterward for how his face would turn bright red. He loved her. That was all. So why couldn't he just tell her that?

"I fell for you hard and fast." Vegeta said.

Tears slowly filled her eyes. "I think in the back of my mind, I was hoping you'd find us."

"I know." He said, softly.

Bulma's eyes closed as she met Vegeta's lips in a kiss that deepened immediately. The back of his neck tingled as she slid her fingers through his flamed hair, her nails dragging. She flattened her other hand over his back, pressing down hard as she curved it over his ass and squeezed. Vegeta buried his hands in her hair, kissing her flustered mouth. His voice raised into a hiss when her fingers curled around his cock, and then she broke away from his lips.

"This is mine." Bulma murmured.

It was always wonderful to have a woman's hands wrapped around him, but he had never had one grab him and claim ownership over his dick. Vegeta could feel his heartbeat pounding through her hands as he gazed into her fierce blue eyes.

"I love you." He said without thinking, because he didn't need to think to know he loved her.

Yes, his cock was hers and everything that was attached to it too. His pulse raced when she touched him. Bulma had won him over when they were kids, and still her fearlessness awed him, as well as her unwillingness to submit.

She crashed against his lips, diving her hand down his slacks. They were too far from the bed, so he dragged her to the couch. The moment she grabbed his cock, Vegeta felt faint. It was as though all the blood drained from his head to pool in his groin. Bulma jerked him through the fabric as he kneaded her breasts, enjoying how they fit in her hands. Then he bent down and bit, loving the high gasp that broke the air-conditioned air. He was knuckle deep in her pussy, and she panted over his shoulder.

She was ready for him, so fucking wet she could hear it, so Vegeta yanked her jeans down. They snagged on her hips, but he keep pulling. Her panties followed them, and then he got a nice view of his fingers buried in her pink mound. There was not a part of her he didn't love: her slim thighs, the smoothness of her skin, her belly just begging to be nipped, even her feet and her red-painted toenails. Bulma sagged against him when he slipped out of her, and then he glided his wet fingers in her mouth. Vegeta's cock jumped as she sucked them, her eyes locked on him. When he pulled them out, she damned near knocked him over with her mouth crushing against his. Her tongue swirled in his mouth, and Vegeta could taste her sweetness. He broke away from her swollen lips and made a sound deep in his throat, a primal growl that surprised him. He took her shoulder in his hand, and he threw her over the arm of the couch.

Bulma bent over, ass up, back sloping down and her breasts hanging like teardrops. He couldn't get his pants off fast enough, and then he fisted his shaft. The head bulged through the closed circle of his hand, and a stream of clear pre-cum dribbled down. He smeared it around his head, and then he spread her ass cheeks to find her warm, wet heat. Vegeta sighed in ecstasy as Bulma gave him the slightest resistance, and then he enter her.

The sound she made whenever he fucked her were like angels singing. Damn, it turned him on. She bucked her hips as he anchored himself deep. His thrusts pitched her body forward, and Vegeta had to yank her back on her curvy hips.

Smack. Smack. SMACK.

Just the sight of her breasts swinging back and forth was almost enough to get him to come. Her lips parted as she let out a sharp cry with every thrust, and Vegeta leaned forward, grabbing her sapphire locks. He pulled on it hard, forcing Bulma to arch her neck, and he almost lost himself at the thought of knocking her up again. Vegeta wanted her smooth belly growing big with his child. Goddamn. If she thought he'd leave her alone when she was pregnant, she was sorely mistaken.

Bulma's arms started tremble, so Vegeta pulled out, her pussy squeezing him like a glove. She curled up on the couch, her face flushed and her hair mussed around her head in the perfect combination of sexy and just-fucked.

"I want you to look at me when you take my cum." Vegeta said, huskily.

Bulma lifted her hips wrapping her legs around him. Blood pulsed to his cock, almost painfully. He eased himself back inside her as she lifted her head and grabbed his neck, her fingernails scratching him. She yanked him down, impatient with his slow strokes, her heels digging into his ass. He embraced her, wrapping his arms under her back, and he was so overwhelmed with how her body felt. Vegeta couldn't keep track of all the sensations. His balls tightened as his tempo increased. She grabbed his face, kissing him, begging him, her eyes burning.

A torrent of cum exploded from his cock as he hammered her deep, the wetness a seductive sound. Intense relief poured over him as Bulma tightened around him. She melted in his arms, and he was still pounding at her pussy because it felt so damn good…because that voice kept insisting on spreading his seed as deep inside her as possible.

It felt different. Bulma couldn't look away from him. Couldn't stop touching him. She smiled at him, and Vegeta grinned back.

"You always fuck me so perfectly." Bulma sighed, contentedly.

"That's why we're made for each other, woman." Vegeta kissed her then, and she responded hungrily, as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of her. Their lips broke apart, and he untangled his fingers from her hair to stroke her body. "I love your beautiful body. I love your hair. I love your smart mouth. I love you, Bulma. I always have."

Her mouth parted. "Always?"

"I was the boy at Starlight Park, and you were the girl who caught grasshoppers."

"Oh my God!" Bulma gasped, realization striking through her. "You were the boy with the flamed hair. You're him! I can't believe it."

He smiled at her. "So you do remember."

"Of course I remember. I used to love playing with you as a kid. Though I never knew your name because we never gave them. Why didn't you come back? I looked for you every week, but you never came back to the park."

"My father thought that it wasn't worth the risk. I never forgot about you, though. My mysterious blue I had called you. I hoped I would see you again, and when I met you at the bar, I knew."

"Why didn't you tell me? All this time…"

"I don't know. You didn't seem to recognize me, so I didn't want to bring it up. I guess I was just waiting for the right time."

Bulma searched Vegeta's face with a sad little smile. "Those were the happiest times of my life."

"We'll make more happy memories together. I promise."

"I love you too, Vegeta."

His heart squeezed as he leaned down and kissed her, her mouth connected to his as she whispered into his mouth. "Give me another baby."

Vegeta slid off the couch and lifted her in his arms as she laughed, and then he headed straight for the bedroom.

* * *

BlueMoon Goddess: Finally, everything has come into the light! Vegeta finally figured out that Nasu was a crazy bitch and Bulma discovered that the boy she played with as a kid was Vegeta. Plus, it seems that she finally was able to put her trust in him and they even exchanged 'I love you's.' However, the drama is far from over and there's plenty more to come in the upcoming chapters. So, like I always say, until next time guys! ^_^


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